


A Changing Fate

by brightestorangedawn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anakin Skywalker Leaves the Jedi Order, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, Canon Divergence, F/M, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, RotS AU, Well he kind of leaves it - you'll just have to read and find out, and all sorts of problems, but they also try to look after each other as best they can, padme and anakin have relationship problems, poor anakin!, some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27663827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightestorangedawn/pseuds/brightestorangedawn
Summary: AU. After nearly losing Padmé, Anakin reveals his marriage to the Council. What will be the consequences of this revelation? Is his path still fated to be the same?
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Sheev Palpatine & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 33
Kudos: 92





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: This is a new and improved version of the original story (let’s call it A Changing Fate 2.0: Angst Edition). I wanted to just start from scratch and re-upload the story after making my changes to it. The story is still pretty much the same, there are just improvements to make it better reflect the tone of the later chapters (which ended up going in a direction slightly different from what I had first planned). It’s also still rated M for language, violence and sex.
> 
> This story begins during the "Clone Wars" episode "Mystery of a Thousand Moons" (s1e18). While it is not necessary to have seen that episode to understand this or the rest of the story (which takes a completely different turn than Revenge of the Sith and is most certainly AU), I guess it would be helpful to have seen it to understand the gravitas of the situation Anakin is in. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me and this story. I hope it’s better now, and I hope that means you can enjoy it more. It’s taken me a long time to write this, and I’d really appreciate any feedback on it!
> 
> Also, obviously I own absolutely nothing at all to do with "Star Wars" and just enjoy writing out my daydreams.

_**A CHANGING FATE** _

**PROLOGUE**

“Anakin, I…”

Anakin watched helplessly as the hologram of his beloved wife and young Padawan faded abruptly. Their sickly faces, caused by the release of the Blue Shadow Virus, were etched into his mind, as were the final words that had spilled weakly from Padmé’s lips. She had been about to reveal their secret, no doubt in a moment of sheer despair. She had been about to tell him that she loved him, one more time, before she died.

Before she _died._

Anakin felt paralysed, and barely registered the desperate “no!” that roared from an unknown depth inside of him. A cold sweat stuck his shirt to his skin. They were not going to die down there; he would make damn sure of it.

Obi-Wan and Jaybo, the young boy that they had found on Iego during their quest for the virus’ cure, came rushing into the ship’s cockpit at the sound of Anakin’s distress.

“What’s going on? What’s happened down there?” demanded Obi-Wan, his brow furrowed as he took in the pale visage of his former Padawan and best friend.

“She… Padmé and Ahsoka… they’re _dying_ down there,” Anakin managed breathlessly. It seemed like his mind was racing a parsec a minute as he tried desperately to figure out a solution for this seemingly impossible problem. “Padmé said to make sure nobody ever opened the bunker so that the virus stays trapped down there - but _they_ are trapped down there!”

“Anakin, Ahsoka and the Senator -” Obi-Wan began, before Anakin cut him off mid-sentence, glaring at him with tortured eyes.

“We have to do something! We can’t just leave them down there to die!” He slammed his fist against the control panel in an attempt to make his point, not registering the pain that reverberated up his flesh arm.

“Anakin, calm down, we’re doing everything we can,” Obi-Wan replied, reassuringly putting his hand on Anakin’s shoulder.

Anakin roughly shrugged off the unwanted touch. How could Obi-Wan be so calm when every second wasted meant that they were closer to losing Padmé and Ahsoka? He searched his former Master’s face for any sign of emotion, but found nothing. As usual, Obi-Wan was stoic as a marble statue, even in the most serious of crisis.

Rage flared up in Anakin and simmered dangerously in his soul as he stared incredulously at the older man’s apparent lack of concern. Had the Jedi Order’s training been so complete, so effective in Obi-Wan that he had not only rescinded all attachments but all _compassion_ too?

Anakin was not going to lose both his Padawan and his wife at once. Obi-Wan may have renounced all familial ties and personal attachments, but Anakin certainly had not. He loved deeply and he loved fiercely, never more so than today.

“We have to do more. We have to _help them_ , Obi-Wan!” Anakin snapped, standing up and towering fiercely above his former Master and the young ruffian Jaybo.

Obi-Wan took a step back in sheer surprise. He had never seen such a determined look in his former Padawan’s eyes. Anakin had never seemed so volatile and so powerful. It was almost frightening.

Anakin’s mind could focus on nothing but the last desperate vision of Padmé he had seen before the hologram had been severed. He knew that she had been trying to maintain her composure for his sake, but her eyes had been filled with fear. It was truly more than he could stand. Over two years ago, on Naboo, he had taken a vow to love and protect her, always, and it was a vow he was determined never to break, damn whatever consequences may arise.

He had to make Obi-Wan understand how important it was that Padmé not come to harm - even if it meant revealing the secret that they had suffered so hard to keep. If it made Obi-Wan realise how deeply he cared for her, how determined he would be to save her…

“I have to save her, Obi-Wan,” he began breathlessly.

“Anakin, we-” Obi-Wan began, but Anakin cut him off yet again. That almost frightening look shone again, darkly, desperately, in his eyes.

“You don’t understand! I _have_ to save Padmé. I… I have to save my _wife_.”

“Your what? Your _wife?_ ”

Obi-Wan was completely stunned. Not angry, or hurt, or anything else, just stunned. He frowned, trying to make sense of what Anakin had just said - he was not completely sure that he had heard him correctly. He couldn’t have, he must be just hearing things because he was so stressed. Anakin could not have said ‘wife’ - certainly not. He was a Jedi Knight, a very powerful one, perhaps the _most_ powerful one, with a Padawan no less. He was the Chosen One! He was most certainly not _married._ Obi-Wan would have known! 

“Yes, Obi-Wan, my wife. Look, there’s no _time_ for this - I’ll explain later,” Anakin said in exasperation, confirming what Obi-Wan had hoped he hadn’t heard. He turned back to him whilst shrugging off his Jedi cloak and running down the ship’s ramp, and Obi-Wan noticed that Anakin refused to meet his eyes. “All that’s important now is that we help Padmé and Ahsoka and the others trapped down there!”

“Oh Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed, following his former Padawan whilst Jaybo, who had remained completely silent throughout the exchange, brought up the rear. “I don’t know how you’re going to explain this one.”

  
  



	2. Chapter One: Revelations

**CHAPTER ONE: REVELATIONS**

The rescue mission had been a success. Padmé, Ahsoka and the clones that had been trapped down in the bunker had been liberated quickly and efficiently. Another victory for the dynamic team of Skywalker and Kenobi, the Republic’s finest heroes.

A bevy of medical staff from Naboo’s capital, Theed, had been on the scene immediately, loading the affected onto stretchers and into a medcentre emergency shuttle. They were suffering from exposure to the Blue Shadow Virus, but luckily their exposure had not been long enough to cause any long-term debilitation. The prognosis was that after receiving doses of the antivirus their recovery would be swift, however they would all be admitted into the medcenter in Theed to monitor their condition.

Anakin was talking with Jaybo whilst waiting to accompany the medcentre shuttle. Padmé was alright, thank the Force, however the antivirus had rendered her and the others unconscious for the time being. Anakin had, of course, seen her, but was yet to talk to her. She therefore remained blissfully unaware that their secret was no longer quite so secret.

“The Republic thanks you for your help, Jaybo. And _I_ thank you for your help,” Anakin addressed the scruffy orphan solemnly.

Jaybo seemed very pleased with himself, and grinned cockily at the renowned Jedi towering above him. “Don’t mention it. I don’t suppose there’s anything in it for me, eh?”

Anakin raised his eyebrows and gave a small laugh. This kid was truly something else. “I’m sure you’ll be duly rewarded for your uh, _heroism_ , Jaybo.”

Jaybo’s cocky smirk grew wider and his eyes lit up at the thought of a reward. He was no doubt planning his next adventure. He began to walk off, then turned to face Anakin again. “Didn’t think Jedi were allowed to get married. Thought you were all a bunch of celibate old monks or somethin’”

Anakin opened his mouth to retort, however Obi-Wan, who had finished his conversation with the clone leader, interjected. “They _aren’t_ supposed to get married. Or even fall in love at all.”

Obi-Wan turned and looked sternly at Anakin, who angrily avoided his gaze. Jaybo, who did not need to be Force-sensitive to pick up on the obvious tension in the air, smartly wandered away towards the general mass of clone troopers and medical staff that were gathered near the shuttle.

Obi-Wan didn’t know where to begin. He had absolutely no idea how to start a conversation that he could never in a thousand years have foreseen having. He had known, always known, right from the start, that Anakin had harboured a deep longing for Padmé, yet he had always assumed that he would act according to the Jedi Code in regards to attachments. He knew that Anakin was rebellious, and admitted to himself that that rebelliousness had saved their skins on numerous occasions, however he had never assumed that Anakin would so wilfully go against the teachings of the Order that he had devoted his life to and which had brought him so much success. He was the _Chosen One_. The Order was supposed to mean something to him!

Obi-Wan sighed. He supposed that Anakin had devoted his life to something – _someone_ – else, now.

He turned and began walking towards the ship that they had flown in on from Iego. He didn’t know exactly where Jaybo was, but assumed that the boy would take this opportunity to score free passage to Coruscant and would have abandoned the old model freighter that had proven perilous to fly in. Yes, the ship would provide the solitude needed for this impossible conversation.

“Maybe we should stay with the medical shuttle,” Anakin hesitated, turning back to look in the direction of the ship, composed of clean lines and smooth metal as was customary for vehicles on Naboo.

“They will let us know when they are ready to leave,” Obi-Wan replied curtly. “Come with me, Anakin. You can’t avoid this.”

Anakin sighed and followed his former Master. He had expected to feel anxiety over the consequences of revealing his marriage, as he knew that it could lead to his expulsion from the Jedi Order. He had also expected to feel remorseful for keeping his best friend and his Padawan in the dark for so long. Surprisingly, though, he didn’t feel either of these things. Instead he felt… _relief_. He had been slowly crushed under the weight of this secret for nearly two years now, and it was as though his head had finally cleared the cresting waves of lies that had been drowning him. He could breathe. There would be consequences, for sure. A storm was coming, and Anakin did not know if he would weather it. For now, though, there was a brief moment of clear sky and that was what he had to focus on.

Obi-Wan was facing the wall when Anakin entered the cockpit, his posture stern. It felt like a return to the Master/Padawan dynamic that Anakin had continuously fought against when he was younger. There was a moment of silence before Obi-Wan finally spoke, slowly and without turning around. “How long?”

Anakin did not pretend to not understand Obi-Wan’s meaning. This was a serious conversation and he knew it needed to be navigated carefully if he was ever going to make Obi-Wan understand. “Just after the Battle of Geonosis.”

“That was nearly two years ago! How did you keep this a secret for so long?” Obi-Wan asked incredulously, still facing the wall. This was an uncharacteristic outburst for him, and Anakin steeled himself for the inevitable fight that was to come. Obi-Wan, however, then spoke in a softer tone, turning to face Anakin with a crestfallen expression. “How did you keep this a secret from _me_?”

“Well, I…” And Anakin, usually so quick on his feet with a carefully crafted comment, found that his words failed him, and the remorse that had eluded him before finally caught up with him. The look in Obi-Wan’s eyes was one that he had never seen before, even after their fiercest confrontations. It was not a look of anger, or of disappointment - it was the look of a friend who realises that they have been kept in the dark the whole time.

“Two years,” Obi-Wan repeated, pacing the length of the cockpit and shaking his head in disbelief. “How did… how could you have… how did I not _sense_ it?”

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. I didn’t _want_ to keep it a secret. We just didn’t feel that there was any other choice,” Anakin explained carefully, watching his friend’s unsettled actions with wary eyes.

At that comment, Obi-Wan stopped pacing and looked directly at Anakin with piercing grey eyes. “There is always a choice,” he said gravely.

“Like what?”

“You could have chosen to walk away from her.”

The words stung and Anakin snorted derisively. “Walk away?”

Obi-Wan shook his head again. This time it was not an action of disbelief, but of frustration. “The Code, Anakin-”

Anakin interrupted him with a growl in his tone. “You of all people know how hard it is to walk away from the one you _love_.”

The words were a barb intended to hurt, and they hit their mark, as evinced by the subtle dimming of the fire in Obi-Wan’s eyes. He took a seat in the pilot’s chair, looking up at his best friend who, despite his height, felt so incredibly small. Anakin was instantly guilty about bringing up Satine. Especially after what had happened to her.

“Obi-Wan, I’m sorry,” Anakin said gently, taking a seat next to him in the co-pilot’s chair. “I shouldn’t have brought Satine into this. I know you made a very difficult choice.”

“It was the only choice,” Obi-Wan replied flatly. “I am a Jedi and my allegiance is to the Order. Yours should be too.”

“It is, Obi-Wan. Please don’t think that I made the decision I made because I didn’t care about the Order. Or about you.”

“Then why?” Obi-Wan asked, although he didn’t need to. He knew the answer, always had. Ever since he was a little boy Anakin had pined for Padmé. Obi-Wan had known it, and had ignored it, and look where that had landed him.

“I love her,” Anakin said plainly, and behind those three simple words was a depth of emotion that Obi-Wan knew he could not understand. Anakin’s feelings for Padmé bordered on worshipful.

“I know,” Obi-Wan sighed, running a stressed hand through his short auburn hair. “I know, Anakin. Force knows I do.”

“If you knew how I feel about her, then why does this come as such a surprise?” Anakin asked provocatively.

“Because damn it, Anakin, I didn’t expect you to run off and get _married_ to her!” Obi-Wan replied in exasperation.

Anakin was silent for a moment, chastised by Obi-Wan’s outburst. When he spoke again, he had such a serious tone and spoke with such conviction that Obi-Wan was honestly surprised. “I had to. Obi-Wan, if you knew how I felt about her, if you knew how much I _love_ her, how much she...” Anakin trailed off, struggling again to find the words to express his feelings about his wife. Padmé’s love was the light that had kept him sane after the senseless murder of his mother and the horrific sights of galactic warfare; the anchor that kept him from drifting too far into the dark waters of his inner turmoil; the balm that soothed his tortured soul and the refuge that he would be lost without. She was the keeper of his heart, the very reason he breathed and why he kept fighting so hard to win this pointless war. He would rid the galaxy of evil for her. He would do _anything_ for her – she only had to ask. He had meant it when he had told her that she was in his very soul.

Obi-Wan sighed, staring out through the front windscreen of the freighter with a truly melancholy gaze. “I know what it is like to love someone, Anakin.”

“Then I don’t need to explain it to you,” Anakin replied. “After the death of my mother, and after the events at Geonosis, I realised, and so did Padmé, that the lives we live are dangerous ones that we could lose at any moment, and because of that we need to celebrate and cherish the best part of our lives, which is our love for each other.”

“I understand, Anakin. But did you consider the ramifications of this choice? You’re a Jedi. You have a Padawan. You can’t expect the Council to let you remain in the Order if you are married,” Obi-Wan responded pragmatically.

“Why should things be any different now?” Anakin said, his arms crossed.

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Well, I was able to become a Knight and instruct a Padawan, and the entire time I was married to Padmé – why would that have to change now?” Anakin replied.

“Because it goes against the Code, Anakin. It’s fundamental that we as Jedi uphold the teachings of the Code – more so if you are responsible for a Padawan!” Obi-Wan answered, his hand running through his hair again. Anakin wondered briefly if he would be the cause of his former Master’s future baldness.

“But _why_?” Anakin demanded. He instantly regretted the tone he had used – it sounded so much like the things he would say as a petulant young Padawan, chaffing at the bit against his Master’s perceived stranglehold. He could already see the expression on Obi-Wan’s face change to one of dignified patience, and it made him feel even more like a child. He tried to moderate the tone of his voice, and continued. “I mean, why would it change things now? The Council thought me good enough to train Ahsoka – clearly my being married didn’t affect that.”

Obi-Wan was silent for a few moments while he mulled over Anakin’s statement, his expression conflicted. “Anakin,” he began, and he stood up and moved to place a hand lightly on Anakin’s shoulder. A gesture of peace. “You have grown considerably over these past two years. You’re very capable as Ahsoka’s mentor, I will not deny this. But, you’ve broken the Code very seriously. I’m not sure that the Council will be able to see past that.”

Anakin sighed and nodded in silent understanding. It was no use arguing further with Obi-Wan. He was such a staunch adherent to the Jedi ways that Anakin could scream until he was blue in the face and Obi-Wan would still not change his mind. He rose from his place in the co-pilot’s seat and came to stand next to Obi-Wan, once again towering above him. “I know that you have to tell the Council, Obi-Wan, but can you wait until I’ve talked to Padmé first?”

“I’ll do what I can,” Obi-Wan said, moving towards the exit of the cockpit. As he stood in the doorway, he turned back to face Anakin. “How do you feel?”

“I feel… lighter. Like a weight is off of my shoulders. Like something was wrong and has now been put right.”

“I hope for your sake that you are correct, Anakin. May the Force be with you, my friend.”

Anakin let a small smile briefly touch his lips. “May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan.”

He watched Obi-Wan leave, and then, alone in the cockpit, sat down again in the co-pilot’s chair with an exhausted sigh. He stayed there, slumped in his seat, for an unknown amount of time, Obi-Wan’s voice stuck in his head.

“ _You’ve broken the Code very seriously. I’m not sure the Council will be able to see past that.”_

Anakin shook his head dismissively at the echo of his former Master. Surely the Council would be rational. Would they really cast him out over this - it was not as if he had done something _bad_. He hadn’t hurt anyone, he had simply fallen in love. How could the Jedi, who preached compassion for all things, view his love for Padmé as a strike against him? His love for her was his greatest source of strength and the biggest factor in his transformation from unruly Padawan to dependable Knight. They could not deny that there had been a change in him.

He would make them understand.

His contemplations over, Anakin rubbed his eyes, exhausted, as he watched the last of the clones loading into the transport back to Coruscant. He had been here too long and it was time to go, time to see Padmé. He had some important things to tell her.

*****

It took longer than Anakin anticipated for Padmé to regain consciousness after receiving the treatment for the Blue Shadow Virus. There was no harm in this, as the medical droid explained that it could take anywhere between six and twelve hours for a person to clear the effects of the Blue Shadow Virus from their system.

Ahsoka and the clones had come to after around eight hours, with no ill effects from their experience. Ahsoka immediately asked to see Anakin, to thank him for his effort in the rescue mission, however Obi-Wan informed her that he was otherwise unavailable. He thought it appropriate that Anakin should see Padmé first and explain to her the situation that they were in, before talking to Ahsoka or anyone else about it.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “I bet I can guess where Sky-Guy is.”

Obi-Wan said nothing in response to this, only offering her his best wishes for her return to action soon, and told her that he would be leaving for Coruscant immediately.

*****

Anakin never once left Padmé’s bedside during the twelve hours that she remained unconscious. He was so truly grateful that nothing serious had happened to her or to the others. He refused to even entertain notions of her death. It was unthinkable.

Clasping her hand, he gazed down at the truly breath-taking woman who had stolen his heart and entered his soul. He studied the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest as she slept, the serene expression of her angelic face, the soft brown curls that had escaped from the utilitarian braids that she wore. He traced little circles on the creamy skin of her smooth hand. His hand was so big, so tanned, so coarse in comparison to hers. She was composed of soft, sleek perfection. He was hard lines of muscle and callus. They were two people so opposite in physicality, in lifestyle, in personality, yet so completely entwined together in an everlasting love that could not be broken.

Her little hand was unadorned with any ring signifying her attachment to him, as was his. It was a visual reminder of the secret that they had lived with for almost two years. A secret that was quickly becoming known. A secret that their marriage had been suffering under.

Anakin’s thoughts wandered as he sat dutifully by Padmé’s bedside. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, so his thoughts jumbled around slowly without ever forming any clear idea. He knew things were certainly going to be different now that the secret of their marriage was out, yet his tired brain seemed unable to grasp the magnitude of the concept as a whole. Instead he focused on small details that were common to a billion marriages the galaxy over, yet had been missing from theirs. He wondered if he and Padmé would wear wedding bands now. He wondered if she would take his last name. He remembered that their wedding certificate did not even bear their true names – yet another way that they had been forced to hide their love as if it was a dirty thing. The Holy Man that had married them had not even known who they really were.

Anakin’s quiet musings were interrupted by the soft sound of Padmé’s voice, and his head immediately snapped up. He realised that in his reverie he had been falling asleep.

“Ani,” Padmé murmured, so gently that it was barely indistinguishable from the repetitive beeping of the medical monitors next to her bed.

“Hello, Angel,” Anakin smiled, squeezing her hand that he still clasped tenderly in his own. Their lips met in a soft kiss, one that Anakin thanked the Force he was able to give her now that she was safe.

“Where are we? Are we alone?” Padmé suddenly queried, breaking their kiss in a hurry. She looked around furtively to make sure that nobody had witnessed a secret that she believed still existed.

“In the medicenter at Theed. And yes, we’re alone,” Anakin replied softly.

With the knowledge that they had full privacy, Padmé reached up to tangle her hand through her husband’s unruly golden curls. She brought his mouth to hers for another kiss, this one long and breathless. It was a ‘thankyou’ kiss, an ‘I knew you would come through for me’ kiss, and most of all it was a kiss that said ‘I truly, deeply love you’.

“I can always count on you to save the day, can’t I, Ani,” Padmé smiled.

“Well, they don’t call me the ‘Hero with No Fear’ for nothing, Angel,” Anakin replied, a cocky grin on his face. “It’s all just in a day’s work for us.”

Padmé laughed softly, and Anakin couldn’t resist stealing just one more lush kiss. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Padmé,” he murmured against her lips. “If anything had happened to you-”

Padmé put her finger to his lips in a motion to silence him. He worried about her too much for his own good. “Don’t focus on ‘what ifs?’, Ani. I’m safe and we’re together now and that’s all that matters. I don’t want to focus on anything else, I just want to enjoy this private time that we have together right now.”

Their lips met again, slow and soft and so deep. Anakin felt the warmth of her breath against his cheek as her lips relinquished their kiss and she sighed softly in his ear. His body ached for her, her touch a sanctuary that he craved.

“How long do we have? I expect the Council will want to see you as soon as possible, and the Senate will no doubt be meeting already to discuss what happened here,” Padmé asked eventually.

Anakin swallowed hardly, looking away. He did not say anything.

Padmé furrowed her brow. “Is everything ok?”

“Well, something’s happened, Padmé,” Anakin began after a short pause. He remained focused on the small data screen of the heart-rate monitor next to the bed. He noticed her heart-rate increase a little and he steadied himself for her reaction to the revelation he was about to give her.

“What’s wrong, Ani? Did something happen to someone? Did Ahsoka make it out of the bunker?”

“Yes, everyone’s fine, Ahsoka, the clones, everyone. They actually woke up before you did, Angel.”

“Have you been to see Ahsoka yet? Surely she must want to see you, Ani,” Padmé replied. She wished to see Ahsoka herself, to thank her for the role that she had played in helping avert a biological crisis on her home planet.

“I haven’t left this room since you were admitted. I wanted to be here when you woke up,” Anakin explained, his fingers brushing softly against her cheek. He was silent for a few moments as he toyed with one of her loose curls, not looking at her.

Padmé frowned. He was stalling. She knew her husband did not like to tell her things that he felt might upset her, but her time as Queen of Naboo, and especially her current role as its Senator, had steeled her for any sort of bad news. “Stop stalling, Anakin.”

He sighed and met her gaze, and he wore that half-smile on his gorgeous face that would usually melt her heart whenever she saw it. Not this time, though. This time she wanted answers.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s strictly _bad_ news,” he began, and she raised an eyebrow expectantly. “I uh… ok. Obi-Wan knows. About us. As in our… _marriage_.” He spat the words out quickly.

“ _What_?” Padmé responded loudly. Her heart-rate monitor beeped at the sudden spike in heart-rate. “You… you told him? _Why_?”

“It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing, Angel,” Anakin rushed to explain, but he could see that his wife was angry.

“How could you tell him without talking to me about it first, Anakin?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by her continued tirade.

“Do you have any idea what this is going to do to our lives? To _your_ life?”

“I-”

“Do the rest of the Council know?” Padmé cried.

“Not yet. Obi-Wan wanted me to tell you first,” Anakin replied solemnly. He tried to take her hand but Padmé pulled away in anger.

“I don’t know what to say, Anakin. This is so… _unexpected_!” she said. Her heart-rate had calmed down but there was a strong tinge of anger, and worst of all, hurt, in her voice.

“Padmé…”

“I really thought that if we revealed our marriage we would have discussed it first as a couple.”

“I’m sorry Padmé, I really am,” Anakin replied. “But it’s not just my fault. You were about to say you loved me when you were cut off by the transmission. You would have revealed our secret as well!”

“I… I don’t remember much of what happened down there,” Padme responded softly. She rubbed her head. Her anger had all but faded and now she simply looked very, very tired. “I just… I thought I was going to die. I thought I was never going to see you again...”

“And that’s exactly how I felt, Padme. I promise I didn’t plan to do it. I just… when I thought you were going to die… I didn’t know what to do. It was all done in a rush.”

“What did Obi-Wan say?” Padme responded quickly.

“He was shocked too, and… upset.”

“I suppose he’s going to tell the Council.”

Anakin nodded. “He has to.”

“What do you think they’ll do?” Padmé sighed.

“I don’t know,” Anakin conceded. “But they will want to see me, and probably you too, as soon as we get back to Coruscant.”

Padmé sighed again and looked suddenly even wearier. “A lot is going to change when we get back to Coruscant, Ani.”

He nodded and took her hand. “But never how much I love you.”

  
  


  
  


  
  



	3. Chapter Two: Three Meetings

**CHAPTER TWO:** **THREE** **MEETINGS**

Obi-Wan ran a nervous hand through his short auburn hair as he stared at the commlink before him, deliberating over the call he had to make. It had been two hours since the Republic Cruiser that he was aboard had left Naboo, and he would reach Coruscant in just a few short hours. Time was slipping through his fingers, and he had to make this crucial call to the Jedi Council. If they found out that he had known about Anakin’s secret and had been hesitant to inform them, there would likely be more trouble for Anakin and a nice helping for himself as well.

However, as he turned the small device around in his hands, Obi-Wan felt torn. He had a commitment to the Jedi Order and to the Republic, that was undeniable, but he also had a commitment to Anakin, his best friend and brother. The Council would likely dismiss Anakin once they found out what had transpired between himself and Padmé, and it would be a great loss, not just to Obi-Wan but to the Jedi Order and the Republic as a whole. Anakin was the Chosen One, this Obi-Wan was certain. He had trained him since he was ten years old and had witnessed him grow from a plucky slave-boy with a talent for pod-racing and a heart that ached for his mother into a dashing, strong-willed young man with the talent to match his ambitions. He knew that Anakin had broken the rules by marrying Padmé, but was that bad enough that it warranted his dismissal during such a period of turmoil? Nearly two years into the Clone Wars, the Republic needed the Hero With No Fear more than ever.

Obi-Wan sighed and initiated a call to the Jedi Temple. He couldn’t be sure of the outcome of it all, but he could be certain that the Council would tear Anakin to pieces over it. They had always been wary of him, as the combination of his intense power and unwillingness to stifle his attachments and emotions was a volatile one. Obi-Wan had always assured them that even though Anakin could be emotional and rebellious, that his allegiance lay with the Order and that he would never break any rules to such a significant extent that it would warrant concern. Now, after the revelation of Anakin’s marriage, Obi-Wan would be made to eat his words.

The call connected and Obi-Wan was greeted with the familiar sight of the Council chambers. It seemed that not all of the Council members were present. Master Yoda and Master Mace Windu were the only ones in the room to receive Obi-Wan’s call.

“Good to see you safe, it is, Master Kenobi,” Yoda said gruffly in his strange vernacular.

“I trust that the mission on Naboo was a successful one,” Mace Windu added stoically.

“Yes, the Blue Shadow Virus was contained, and the casualties were minimal. Naboo is safe, as are Senator Amidala and Padawan Tano. We lost a few clone troopers but were able to secure the safety of the majority of the squad,” replied Obi-Wan matter-of-factly. He tried to focus himself entirely on the conversation with the two other Jedi, but the stress inside him was so great that it could not help but manifest itself outwardly.

“Something the matter, is there not, Master Kenobi?” Yoda queried.

Obi-Wan ran his hand through his hair again. It was now or never. “I have something to report concerning Knight Skywalker.”

Mace pursed his lips. He had never been a strong ally of Anakin’s, believing him too old and therefore too attached to others to be trained. Mace had stated time and again that Obi-Wan was to try harder to break Anakin’s attachments to others, including himself. Obi-Wan cursed the Force that he was one of the Council members that he had to have this conversation with now.

“Injured, Skywalker is not. Sense that pain, I would. No, something else, the matter is. Something… personal,” Yoda said slowly, reaching out into the Force to seek the answer himself.

“Yes, this does concern Anakin’s personal life,” Obi-Wan began. He took a deep breath and continued. “We were all aware of Anakin’s … _problems_ … with attachment, especially regarding Senator Amidala. Well, it appears that what I had dismissed as nothing more than an unrequited crush was actually something more.”

“Are you implying that the Senator reciprocates Skywalker’s feelings?” Mace questioned, raising his eyebrows with an air of annoyance.

“Yes, it would appear so. So much so, in fact, that they are married.”

There was silence for a few seconds as Mace and Yoda registered what Obi-Wan had just told them. Yoda was the first to speak.

“This news, changes everything, it does. Although unexpected, not so completely. Aware of Skywalker’s impulses to act on his emotions, we are. Remember the effect of his mother’s passing, we should.”

Obi-Wan noticed that Yoda did not seem outwardly angry or disappointed at the news. He retained his usual serenity that he had had eight hundred years to perfect. He hoped that this was a positive sign. Mace, on the other hand, seemed livid.

“This is unacceptable! Skywalker has gone too far this time!” he shouted.

Obi-Wan was taken aback by the abrupt outburst from the usually composed Jedi. He couldn’t recall a time when Mace had ever showed this amount of emotion. It was usually extremely hard to get a gauge on his feelings as the man was renowned for his impassivity.

It was Yoda that deescalated the situation. “Too soon to pass judgements, it is. Meet with Skywalker and Senator Amidala, we must. A complicated issue, this is.”

“I agree,” Obi-Wan responded. “Anakin has always had a clouded future, and I know that he has broken rules in the past, but we can agree that it usually was the right choice. I think we should discuss this with the rest of the Council and with Anakin and Senator Amidala, and not make any rash decisions.” With that, Obi-Wan looked pointedly at Mace, who scowled in response.

“Notify Skywalker and Senator Amidala that their presence is requested by the Council immediately. We shall see what the rest of the Council has to say,” Mace responded curtly, dismissing Obi-Wan with a quick bow.

Obi-Wan bowed in response and then deactivated the commlink. He breathed a long sigh of relief. _I guess that wasn’t_ too _bad_ , he thought, sinking wearily down into his chair.

*****

“Wow, Master, I knew you two were close but I didn’t expect that you were _married_!” Ahsoka exclaimed. She was sitting up in bed now, having recovered from her infection with the Blue Shadow virus remarkably quickly, likely due to her connection to the Force. She was glad that her Master had come to see her and had illuminated upon the vague interaction that she had had with Obi-Wan earlier.

“You aren’t upset that I didn’t tell you earlier?”

“A little, but it was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes that there was _something_ going on between you,” Ahsoka teased.

Anakin frowned. “It wasn’t _that_ obvious, was it? I mean, we were pretty good at keeping it a secret I think!”

“Okay Master, sure you were.”

Anakin shook his head and smiled. He was glad that Ahsoka was alright after the ordeal with the Blue Shadow Virus, and had taken the news of his marriage to Padmé well. She had not been his Padawan all that long, only around eighteen months or so, but in that time they had developed a close bond. She was like the little sister he had never had, and he hoped that he could support her in ways that went beyond teaching her how to use the Force.

“Why did you decide to tell everyone about it now? Why not before?” Ahsoka queried.

“Well, I hadn’t really planned on telling anyone _ever_ ,” Anakin admitted. “It was kind of an impulsive thing that happened when I thought that you and Padmé were going to die in the bunker.”

“We wouldn’t have died, Master. You wouldn’t have let us,” Ahsoka replied chirpily. She was tucking into some well-deserved stew, and her dining manner seemed to be identical to her Master’s. She gesticulated wildly with a stew-laden spoon in her hand and talked with her mouth full.

“Of course I wouldn’t have. That’s the point. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you or Padmé, and I didn’t feel that Obi-Wan was reacting… _appropriately_ … to the situation,” Anakin explained.

Ahsoka grinned. “I’ve never known Master Kenobi to _react_ to anything. He’s as cool as a Corellian cucumber.”

Anakin smiled, glad that she was making jokes like her usual self. However, his countenance clouded as he thought again of the ramifications of this unexpected revelation. “I might have to leave the Order, Snips. That means I won’t be your Master anymore.”

Ahsoka was silent for a few moments, seemingly focused on her food. When she spoke, her big blue eyes were sad. “I know. I just didn’t want to say it.”

They were quiet for a short time after that, as Ahsoka finished her meal and a droid came to remove her dining things. When they were alone again, she was the one who broke the silence. All of her humour from before was now gone.

“What did the Council say?”

“They don’t know yet. Obi-Wan wanted me to tell Padmé about it first, and I wanted to talk to you as well. I owed you that much,” Anakin replied gravely. “There’s a very real chance that I’m going to be dismissed from the Order, Ahsoka. I’m going to have to face the Council as soon as I get back to Coruscant, and I have no idea what will happen from then onwards. If they dismiss me, I don’t know that they will let me see you again, so… I want to say goodbye to you now.”

Ahsoka reached out to touch her Master’s shoulder, and her tone was comforting. “Don’t say anything yet, Master. Nothing is set in stone, and even if they do re-assign me, this isn’t goodbye. We never truly say goodbye when we are connected to the Force because in that way we are always connected to each other.”

Anakin looked up with a sad smile and noticed a faint glimmer in her eyes. “It sounds like you’re the Master now, Snips,” he said, using her nickname fondly.

She couldn’t help but grin at that. “You’ve taught me well, Sky-Guy. Maybe I’ll give Master Yoda a challenge for Grand Jedi Master now.”

“We’ll see, Snips. We’ll see.”

*****

Padmé could not sit still. She had been pacing her penthouse apartment for the past half hour, her thoughts racing. Anakin should have been here by now.

She had arrived back on Coruscant before him, as he'd been delayed with arrangements for the remaining clone troopers. Another world in crisis, another battle to be won or lost with no real change for the war. They had not spoken since their conversation in the medicentre on Theed except for a brief message from Anakin saying that he would be back at their apartment as soon as possible. She hadn’t been able to reply to it, however, and felt tense with the weight of an unresolved problem.

She sighed.

The news had just been so unexpected, and she had been upset that it was not a decision that they had discussed as a couple. They had been working so hard to keep this secret for nearly two years, and then all of a sudden it was just out in the open. Padmé was concerned that Anakin had not thought things through enough - he could be so impulsive sometimes. He certainly wore his heart on his sleeve.

They needed to discuss this sudden change in their lives properly, in the privacy of their own home. They also just needed to be together – so many things had happened in such a short space of time, and there was so much emotion in the air between them. Right now she was not a Senator, not a former Queen. Right now Padmé was simply a woman who needed the comfort only her husband could bring her. They had been apart for _so long._ It had been months since they had been together, months since he had been inside of her, months since she had cried out his name as she saw stars.

Padmé chewed her knuckle in anticipation as she continued to wait for her husband to return to her. She stood watch by the large transparisteel windows that lined one wall of the apartment, hoping to see the familiar yellow Starfighter that unfortunately frequented the apartment so little. She waited alone, having de-activated C-3PO to avoid his incessant chattering. She needed peace.

The hours rolled by as did the never-ending Coruscant traffic. Looking at the chrono on her wrist, Padmé bit her lip. _Where is he_ _?_

Then she saw it, finally, after hours of waiting. His Starfighter landed on the discreet platform adjacent to the apartment and it would have only been seconds, but it felt like hours, as she ran to him as he exited the ship and gathered her up in his arms.

"Ani," she breathed. "Thank the Force. You're here."

"Of course, Angel," he responded softly, and the conversation was halted and the tension of their previous meeting momentarily forgotten as their lips met passionately and their hands roamed each other's body and their hearts raced.

"I know, we need to talk, but…" She began kissing him again, she couldn't resist, standing on her tip-toes to reach, reveling in the warmth of his body as he held her small frame close. "I don't want to talk right now."

Anakin understood her unspoken meaning instantly, and smiled against her lips. "Neither do I, Angel."

Their tongues entwined as their kisses deepened, and when Padmé's hand brushed against the hardness growing in his pants, Anakin moaned into her mouth. "Not here… let's go inside…"

Carrying her swiftly into their apartment, Anakin never once stopped kissing his wife. Setting her down on the bed, he shed his thick black cloak quickly and sat down to remove his boots. Padmé moved to his side and hurriedly helped him remove his tunic and pants, biting her lip as a little thrill ran through her when she saw how hard he was for her already. Normally they took their time with this, undressing each-other slowly and savouring the soft moments like these that punctuated their often bleak lives. However, they needed this quickly. It had been so long. They just needed to drown in each other and release the tidal wave of mixed emotions they both felt. 

Her simple gown was removed in seconds, and Anakin was privately thankful that it was not one of her elaborately constructed Senatorial gowns that he had had to take off. He marveled at her naked form, struck anew by her beauty. He felt the same way about her as he had on their wedding night, the same way he would feel after they had been together a hundred times, a thousand, a million. She was a work of art that he would pay homage to with his hands, his mouth, his body. How could he not have loved her, this truly ethereal woman, unrivaled in beauty and intellect?

Padmé gazed up at Anakin through half-lidded eyes as he positioned himself on top of her, loving the weight of him pressing against her body as he began worshipping her small breasts with his eager mouth. She moaned softly as he tugged at her rosy nipple with his teeth, her hands spanning his broad, muscular back. She loved being able to touch him like this again, she loved his strong, athletic body, and she took her time, running her hands down his back, feeling the hard muscles and tracing down the line of his spine. As he kissed her breasts she reached down again and encircled his hardness with her soft fingers, stroking up and down.

He rewarded her with a shuddering moan. “Your turn first...”

Reaching down between her legs, he felt her wetness and a surge of pride in his chest, knowing that he had done this and she was ready and needy for _him_. He stroked her gently with a single finger, growing harder than he ever thought was possible as his ministrations brought forth sharp gasps of pleasure.

"Ani…" she breathed, her eyes closed, her hands moving, clutching at his shoulders.

He smiled, kissing her and focusing soft strokes on her clit, and she sucked and bit at his bottom lip, so over-come.

"Ani… I… uhhh… I…" Padmé gasped, grinding her backside against the mattress. She thought that his fingers were providing all that she could handle, yet when he moved lower in the bed and his tongue lashed a slow trail from bottom to top, she descended to a higher plane.

"Gods!" she cried, as he feasted on her to his heart's content, his cock flexing jealously as his mouth had all the fun.

She was primed and came quickly, his name coming from her in short, panting syllables. "A..na… _kin_!"

After, she opened her eyes and he was truly a sight to behold, his eyes twinkling, his broad chest misted with a fine sweat and his dark, sandy curls, longer now than when she had married him, in a state of passionate disarray. If she was an angel then he was most certainly a god.

"I love you," she whispered. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Angel. With everything I am," he replied huskily.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and moaned as he pushed inside of her. He couldn't help a grunt fleeing his chest as he entered her and felt her warmth enclosing around him so deliciously. Anakin may have been the Chosen One, the most powerful Jedi in history, yet he never felt stronger or more like a man than when he was making love to his wife. He would never work so hard to master the Force as he would work to pleasure her.

He claimed her roughly and he claimed her deeply. The pace was set by their desperate need for each other. He had never felt the Force as strongly as he did right now. Little gasps of pleasure escaped her each time he thrust into her, and it wasn't long before she was crying his name and fluttering around him in ecstasy. After months apart he felt _so good_ inside of her. Padmé couldn’t get enough of the feel of him. 

Their emotions were running high that night and were expended quickly as they reveled in each other's touch. It was not long after Padmé came a second time that Anakin could take no more and collapsed on top of her, sated.

They remained in that position for an unknown amount of time, feeling the slight chill of the cool air in the room upon their naked bodies, exchanging more soft kisses and affirmations of love. In that moment they ceased to be a Jedi and a Senator, and were simply a young husband and wife deeply in love.

Eventually Anakin rolled off of Padmé and onto his back, beckoning for her to curl up against his chest. She complied sleepily, her eyes remaining closed as she moved to lie on top of him with her head under his chin. Anakin kissed her forehead and sighed, closing his eyes as well. His soul was at peace again.

"That was amazing, Padmé," he breathed, absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair. He could not see her expression, but he thought that she was probably smiling in agreement.

"We still need to talk, Ani," Padmé replied, shifting her position so that she was lying on her stomach with her chin against his chest, looking up at him with sleepy brown eyes. She looked so tender and beautiful and satisfied and Anakin could not resist her.

"Come here," he responded softly, pulling her closer so that he could kiss her. "I know, Angel. I'm sorry."

" I wasn't thinking with a clear head either. I too let the situation get the better of me," Padmé gushed.

Anakin smiled and kissed her again. "It doesn't matter anymore. What matters is what we do now."

"Are you sure? I got so upset at you, and…"

"I promise."

"Well, what happens now?"

"The Council want to meet with us tomorrow to discuss what has happened. There's a very strong chance that they will ask me to step down from the Order."

"I'm so sorry," Padmé replied, reaching to touch his cheek. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I don't know what the decision will be, and if they ask me to choose between you and the Order, well…" Anakin kissed her. "I've made my choice."

Padmé smiled at him but it was an uneasy one. She would accept any decision that he made, but she felt sorry that his role as a Jedi was in jeopardy. It had been his whole life for the ten years before they had been reunited and she had not let him give that up when they had been married. He was the Chosen One and it was something that she believed he would not be completely okay to relinquish.

Anakin sensed her uneasiness and cupped her cheek. "It's going to be okay, Padmé. I promise you."

Padmé tried to smile with a little more enthusiasm, but she knew in her heart that despite his reassurances, Anakin was going to be devastated about having to leave the Order if the Council made that decision.

"The Senate will not look too kindly on this either," she explained. "They do not like scandals, especially secret marriages to men who are not supposed to be married at all. I may be asked to step down as well."

Anakin rubbed her back reassuringly. "They would be fools to let you go."

"They would be doing what's in the best interest for their public image," Padmé responded pragmatically.

"What will you do if they do ask you to leave?" Anakin queried, his hand still tracing gentle little patterns on her spine.

"I'm not sure. I've never thought about a life outside of politics. I've never had to consider it," Padmé responded quietly. She supposed that she would return to Naboo if she was asked to leave the Senate, although she had no idea what she would do in terms of employment. She had no idea what she would say to her family, either. How could she expect them to forgive her for keeping such a secret from them? She bit her lip again as her mind raced through the possibilities that lay before them.

"They haven't made a decision yet, and neither has the Council," Anakin replied. "We can't know the will of the Force."

"How can you be so… _calm_ , Anakin?"

"Because," he began, his voice a murmur that she had to strain to hear. "I can do anything, be anyone, that doesn't matter. You are what matters."

Padmé smiled wanly. She cuddled closer and tried to believe the conviction behind her husband's words. However, she could not keep the negative thoughts from creeping up from the back of her mind. Their meeting with the Council tomorrow would change both of their lives.

And Anakin, despite his reassurances, spent the night as sleepless as his wife.

  
  



	4. Chapter Three: The Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter was an interesting one to write because poor Anakin has very conflicting desires, even though he tries to pretend he doesn’t. He’s kind of a mess but I love him anyway.

**CHAPTER THREE: THE FUTURE**

Anakin rose with the sun after a sleepless night and dressed in silence, the weight of the events that lay before him baring down like a heavy yoke across his shoulders. He looked over at his sleeping wife, her loose curls splayed across the pillow and her naked body tangled in sheets. His heart warmed as he gazed at her perfect form. He had made his choice back on Naboo on the evening he had married her, pledging his life and his soul to her before the orange rays of the setting sun. There were things that he could live with and things that he could live without, and she was not one of them. When he looked at her he felt like maybe he could face this day, leave his former life behind, turn away from such a large part of his identity. Turn away from his destiny… Anakin tried to push those thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on getting dressed. The future was not set in stone. He was the Chosen One. Surely that had to count for something. _Surely_. 

Anakin tried to be as quiet as he could, but Padmé had always been a light sleeper. As he sat on the side of the bed putting on his boots, he felt her arms wrap around his waist from behind and her slight body press close to his back.

“Why didn’t you wake me, Ani?” Padmé murmured, her voice soft with sleep and her breath against his ear.

“You looked so peaceful, Angel,” Anakin replied, turning so that he could kiss her. “Besides, you needed your rest after what happened on Naboo.”

Padmé frowned, either remembering or disagreeing, Anakin was not sure which. She looked into his tired blue eyes. “You didn’t sleep well last night.”

“I was alright,” Anakin responded briefly, moving away from her embrace and standing up to put on his robe.

Padmé raised an eyebrow at his response. “You’re lying,” she stated, matter-of-factly.

Anakin sighed, turning to face her. Her heart ached as she noticed how vulnerable he looked, so much like he had on the Nabooian cruiser when he was ten years old and leaving his mother behind on Tattooine. She moved off the bed and into his arms, and he held her tightly, seeking her comfort now just as he had back then.

*****

Standing in front of the Council that morning, Anakin felt as if he was back in the arena on Geonosis. Ten pairs of eyes stared intently at him as he stood in the middle of the Council chamber with Padmé. He had stood there in that exact spot many times before, and many times before had felt that he was burdening the Council with his presence. This time he felt more than that, as if they were looking at him as though they wished he had never come to the Temple at all. It was as if they had all been waiting for this moment, for him to go just one step too far and break one too many rules and prove their suspicions that he was too reckless and not Jedi material. It seemed like even Obi-Wan was tired of him being here. He had been avoiding Anakin’s eye since the moment he and Padmé had entered the chamber.

Anakin glanced quickly at Padmé, and she flashed him a minute, but reassuring, smile. They stood a little ways apart from each other, hoping that their neutral body language would work in their favour. However, Anakin wanted desperately to reach out and take Padmé in his arms and bury his face in her soft curls so that he would not have to feel anything else ever again except for her love. Her love was all that he needed, he fought to remind himself. Padmé was what was important. Padmé. Padmé. _Padmé_. He chanted her name over and over in his mind as if she were a deity and calling upon her with a prayer would save him from his doubts.

There was complete silence as every member of the Council looked the illicit couple up and down several times. It was Yoda’s gruff voice that eventually disturbed the uncomfortable tension in the room.

“Knight Skywalker, Senator Amidala, know why you are here, you must,” he began, his austere tone commanding the complete attention of the room despite his small stature. “Informed us of your relationship, Master Kenobi has. The Jedi Code, broken, you have. Take this lightly, the Council does not.”

Anakin bowed his head. “Yes, Master. I understand.”

“Skywalker, you knew explicitly that attachments were forbidden in the Jedi Order, and yet you took a lover anyway,” Mace said severely. He was sitting with arms folded and lips pursed, and Anakin swore that he had never appeared more displeased. He was like a judge presiding over a convicted criminal awaiting execution and he seemed to be relishing the confrontation between himself and Anakin.

Anakin frowned. “Senator Amidala is my wife, not my ‘lover’.”

Mace waved away the statement. “Regardless, your relationship with her is completely forbidden.”

The Nautolan Master Kit Fisto regarded Padmé from his position in the circle. “Senator Amidala, were you informed that attachments, especially _romantic_ ones, were forbidden for Jedi?”

“Yes, Anakin informed me about the Jedi Code before we were married. I was always fully aware of the consequences of our decision,” Padmé replied coolly.

“Yet you decided to pursue a relationship with Skywalker regardless?” Mace questioned.

“Yes.”

“Were you pressured into it?”

“Of course not!” Padmé rebuked, her calm façade broken. “Our relationship was a completely mutual decision and I am offended that you would imply otherwise. Anakin may have broken the rule regarding attachments but his intentions were completely sincere.”

Mace seemed slightly taken aback by Padmé’s rebuttal. “I… _apologise_ … if I offended you in any way Senator Amidala. I simply mean for the Council to gain a complete insight into the situation here.”

Padmé said nothing in response; she simply eyed Mace with an air of contempt and remained resolute.

“Skywalker, you were aware that your relationship with Senator Amidala would jeopardize your position as a Jedi, and yet you took a Padawan despite this?” Master Shaak Ti inquired. She did not address him with an accusatory tone; instead, she seemed genuinely curious.

“With all due respect, Master, I do not believe my relationship with Senator Amidala compromises my abilities as a Jedi, and so I felt capable taking on Padawan Tano,” Anakin replied arrogantly.

The Council was quiet momentarily as they mulled over this truth. Eventually Master Plo Koon addressed Anakin.

“Whilst your abilities as a Jedi are undisputed, you show little adherence to the Code. You set a bad example about obedience to your Padawan and to the other learners. This is certainly not your first instance of rule-breaking.”

Anakin looked away as he tried not to let Plo Koon’s words affect him outwardly. He had been channelling the Force to conceal his emotions for the duration of the session, yet this cut to the quick. He had tried to be a figure that Ahsoka could build herself upon – perhaps not a role-model of obedience, but somebody who followed their heart when making decisions and thought outside the square.

“I only want what is best for Padawan Tano,” Anakin explained. “I would never encourage her to break any rules set forth by the Jedi Code. I only aim to teach her the ways of the Force and how to channel her abilities to be the best Jedi she can be. She was not aware of my marriage to Senator Amidala, thus it did not affect her training.”

The Council was silent again as they digested this information. Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan, who was yet to say anything. He did not look up, and Anakin was puzzled by his best friend’s apparent indifference, as they had parted on relatively good terms after their altercation on Naboo.

“The fact of the matter is that you cannot remain in the Order if you do not relinquish your attachments,” Mace said, breaking the silence. “It is against the Code. There is no room for dispute.”

Anakin looked at the senior Jedi with a spark of anger in his eyes. “That is something I cannot do, Master Windu.”

Mace sighed and looked away, his countenance unreadable.

“Then, no choice, there is,” Yoda said gravely. “Relinquish your position in the Order, you must. Sorry to say this, I am.”

Anakin felt as though he had been kicked in the gut and that his throat was closing. A small, rational part of his brain knew logically that this was the only conclusion that the Council would have come to but if he was being honest with himself, he had been expecting them to be lenient with him because of his status, as they had been in the past. It was a few seconds before he was able to find the words he needed, but it felt like he was standing there mute in front of them for a lifetime trying to relearn the language. When he spoke, it was slow and moderated, for fear of his voice cracking with emotion.

“Please do not think that I do not take my position as a Jedi Knight seriously. I ask you all to understand that my marriage to Senator Amidala was not an act of defiance against the Jedi Order, but an act of love.”

“It is too severe a violation to allow, ‘Chosen One’ or not,” Plo Koon responded, his voice tense.

“Surely there is another way…” Anakin looked at them beseechingly.

“I repeat my earlier statement,” Mace began diplomatically. “If you would consider ending your relationship with Senator Amidala, we may be able to… _reconsider_ your position.”

Anakin looked at his wife with pained eyes. Mace’s words rang in his ears and for a split-second he considered them and he knew that he would never forgive himself for it. Padmé’s face was an unreadable political mask to the Council but as he looked at her, he saw a glimmer of distress in her eyes as she wondered if he would choose her.

“I will not leave my wife.” The words spilled forth from Anakin’s lips and in that moment he sealed his destiny and changed his fate completely.

There was a ripple of surprise through the members of the Council. That was it. The choice had been made. The Chosen One was turning his back on the Order.

What would happen to the Prophecy now?

“So, made your choice, you have. Leave the Order, you must, and Jedi Knight, you are no longer. Reassigned, Padawan Tano will be,” Yoda said, a tinge of sadness in his gruff tone. “A loss to the Order, this will certainly be.”

Anakin said nothing; he could not have spoken if he had tried. He wanted to scream at them that it was not fair and that he was the Chosen One and that he had been the Hero With No Fear despite his marriage and he should not have to choose but it was no use. They had made their decision. After relinquishing his lightsaber to Yoda he felt hollow, as if a piece of his insides had been taken out and thrown away. His stomach hurt.

Anakin bowed respectfully one last time, noting the curious silences of both Mace Windu, his most vocal critic, and Obi-Wan Kenobi, his best friend. He then turned on his heel and swiftly left the Council chambers with Padmé, clenching his fists and hearing the knuckles of his flesh hand crack.

As they walked quickly and silently down the echoing hallway away from the Council chamber, Anakin heard a familiar voice call his name as it had done a thousand times before. Turning back, he saw Obi-Wan running to catch up with him.

Anakin looked at him with an anger that Obi-Wan had never seen before. “You didn’t say a word in there. I thought that we understood each other.”

“Anakin, please understand that there was nothing I could have said. They had made that decision before you came in. I could not have changed their minds at all.”

“You just… sat there. As they expelled me…” Anakin turned away from his former Master harshly, his eyes stinging. Padmé stood away in the shadows, watching the confrontation between the two best friends with an aching heart.

“Anakin, don’t leave like this. This isn’t what I wanted, believe me,” Obi-Wan tried to explain, running a hand through his hair.

Anakin said nothing. He simply handed Obi-Wan his lightsaber then turned and continued to walk away down the hallway. Padmé followed hesitantly, glancing at Obi-Wan’s stricken face as she took her husband’s arm in an attempt to soothe him.

Obi-Wan watched the two of them as they left without a backwards glance, his heart in his throat and noise racing in his ears. He looked down at the lightsaber he held in his hands.

“You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you,” he murmured softly to himself, standing alone and defeated in the hallway.

*****

Padmé gave a low moan as her husband pushed deeper inside of her. Anakin was taking her with a furious longing that she had never experienced before, and when she looked up into his blue eyes she saw that they were misty with emotion. He was barely registering his surroundings, consumed entirely with an insatiable need to lose himself inside her and block out what had happened at the Temple.

“Ani,” she whispered, reaching to touch his face gently. He met her gaze properly this time, but remained silent except for periodic grunts of exertion. He had barely spoken to her since the incident at the Temple. Since he had been asked to leave the Order because he would not leave her.

As soon as they had arrived back at 500 Republica, he was upon her, kissing her with such a desperate longing that she threw away all notions of talking to him rationally about what had happened, and simply let him take his comfort. They had been barely through the apartment door when he had removed her top, and a trail of discarded clothes then followed them to the bedroom.

Anakin groaned as he pushed back Padmé’s slender legs, allowing himself to plunge deeper into her. The sound of her sweet little gasps was the only noise his mind registered, and the feel of her wrapped so tightly around him was the only physical sensation he experienced. Nothing existed in the world anymore except for her. No Jedi, no war, nothing. Only Padmé, only this moment. If he could just take her hard enough, just lose himself in her, he would be okay. She made everything alright. His Angel. Everything would be okay because he had her. He just had to keep telling himself that, just keep reminding himself of her love.

“My Angel,” he panted in her ear, pressing his lips to the hollow of her ear.

“Yes, always,” Padmé replied, her voice shaking as she saw the ferocity behind his eyes. He would be alright, she told herself. He had every right to be angry and hurt, but he would be okay eventually. This would not last forever. It couldn’t.

Anakin’s lust burned hard and fast, and he came inside her quickly, feeling drained like never before. He collapsed upon her gently, closing his eyes, the dragon inside him sated for the time being.

“I love you,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling her throat.

“I love you too,” Padmé replied, her head turned to the side and her breath catching in her throat. She pressed a fierce kiss to the top of Anakin’s head, and let him fall asleep on top of her. She then lay awake for a long time afterwards, listening to his soft breathing, wondering what would happen to them now.

*****

Master Yoda sat quietly meditating on the small round bench in his quarters, the shuttered blinds of the window casting soft beams of orange light on his small frame. Trying to focus his thoughts on the Force, Yoda could not help his mind returning time and time again to the Council’s meeting with Anakin Skywalker earlier that morning.

Sighing wearily, he wondered what would happen to the Prophecy now. The Chosen One was lost, along with the hope of balancing the Force. With Anakin gone, their best chance at ending the Clone Wars anytime soon had also disappeared. There would be countless more battles to fight, countless more lives lost. Privately, Yoda wondered if the Council had made the right choice. Was making sure that the Jedi Code remained upstanding more important than winning the most devastating war in the last five hundred years? Did the title ‘Chosen One’ mean nothing?

Yoda’s mind drifted absently through the waves of thoughts like these and could not come to any conclusions. His old bones felt weary and his spirit flagged. It was clear that the peace he needed was out of his reach today.

He was about to give up on his meditations when he was suddenly struck with the most overwhelming feeling of the Dark Side that he had ever experienced. A blurred image of a hooded figure seemed to appear as if standing before his eyes. He heard the distant cry of an unknown woman, and saw a bright flash of purple.

Yoda cried out as the pain of the Dark Side coursed through his veins, and then as quickly as the visions had appeared, they were gone. Yoda was alone again in his small, dimly-lit room, panting as he picked himself up from the floor where the shock of the vision had landed him. He had barely enough time to register what had happened before he felt a familiar presence outside of his chambers, and a loud, desperate knock on the door. Using the Force to unlock the entrance, Yoda was taken aback as Obi-Wan Kenobi practically tumbled through onto the floor before him. He had never seen Obi-Wan appear this distressed before.

“Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan began breathlessly, picking himself up and straightening his robes. “I just saw…”

“Know what you saw, I do, Master Kenobi,” Yoda interrupted gruffly, his tone stressed. “Saw it myself, I did.”

“What does it mean?” Obi-Wan asked, running a stressed hand through his hair.

“A series of events, set in motion, we have,” Yoda said solemnly, leaning on his knotted cane. “In darkness, the future lies.”

  
  



	5. Chapter Four: The Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about the chapter and the story as a whole: it contains references to the Clone Wars season 3 Mortis story-arc (episodes 15, 16 and 17). No spoilers though (well, this chapter at least). Keep in mind I am playing a little fast-and-loose with a lot of the story-lines from that series – a lot of things are serving as inspirations for this story without necessarily following the exact plot of the episodes.

**CHAPTER FOUR: THE DREAM**

Anakin sat on the side of the bed with his head in his hands as his breathing slowly regained a normal pace. He focused on the slowing rhythm of his breaths, and the short panting bursts gave way to a slow and steady movement of his chest. Fragments of the nightmare still flashed in his mind and he closed his eyes instinctively as each burst of memory intruded sharply into his reality. _That scream_. _Her_ scream. It still rang in his ears like an alarm siren that could never be shut off. He rubbed at his tired eyes, trying to wipe the unpleasant scenes away. A futile effort. Of course it was not that easy.

He looked across at his wife, who remained quietly asleep. She was covered with nothing but the bed sheet and the moonlight filtered softly through the gaps in the window blinds, illuminating her creamy skin with a soft silver glow. She looked so ethereal to him then, so much like the angel that he was insistent that she was, and Anakin longed to touch her, to reach out to her for the comfort that he so desperately needed right now. He held back, however, telling himself that he did not want to disturb her. She needed to sleep. Really, if he was being honest with himself, he did not want her to know that he had been having nightmares again. It was not a secret that he had them – Padmé had known about his nightmares since they had been reunited a few years ago – but it was a kind of unspoken rule that Anakin did not talk about them, and Padmé did not ask about them. He knew that she wanted to, that her need to help others, especially himself, made it so difficult to do nothing when she knew that he was hurting. He knew though that she would respect his wishes, even if she did not agree with them, and that they would both pretend that Anakin always slept through the night peacefully.

Rising from the bed and stretching languidly, his body felt heavy and numb, as though he was moving in slow motion. Anakin felt the cool chill of the night air and shivered. A fine mist of sweat covered his bare body, amplifying the low temperature. He searched for his pants and his robe, a small smile crossing his lips as he found them mixed up with Padmé’s clothes in a messy pile on the floor that spoke of their desperation the night before. Dressing quickly, he left the bedchamber silently. He paused as he stood in the open doorway, and quickly glanced back at Padmé to assure himself that she was still asleep.

The apartment was silent as Anakin crossed the main living area to reach the private balcony where he liked to meditate. The dim lamp lights cast an amber glow on his solitary figure as he sat quietly before the small fountain that was the magnificent centrepiece of the balcony. Intricately carved out of marble in a traditional design from Naboo, the gentle sound of the fountain calmed Anakin’s racing mind. He liked the sound of water as it reminded him of his time in Naboo’s Lake Country with Padmé, before the start of the Clone Wars and so much suffering in the galaxy. Naboo was the complete antithesis to everything about his own home world, Tattooine. Tattooine was a dirty dead rock at the far edge of the galaxy, full of bad memories and a life that he had been desperate to escape. Naboo was lush and green and so, _so_ beautiful – a magical planet that his childhood self could never have hoped to visit, and the place where he had experienced the best moments of his life.

Anakin was not sure how long he had sat watching the water of the fountain dance before he felt her familiar presence. Padmé crossed the distance between them wordlessly, and sat down tentatively on the carved stone bench beside him. He knew then that he had not been as stealthy as he had thought. She must have woken instantly when he left the bed, lying there pretending to still be asleep whilst debating whether she should follow him. He wondered how many times it had been like this, and supposed it was probably all of them. He supposed that he should feel guilty about making her worry like that, but a part of him secretly felt good that she would be so worried about him. It felt like a reassurance to him that she thought about him when he wasn’t there, worried about him when he was far away. He often felt consumed with his thoughts and concerns about her, even when they were together, and he hoped that at least to some extent she felt that experience too.

“You’ll catch your death from cold,” Padmé said, her soft voice breaking the silence and Anakin’s failed attempts at meditation. She ran a small hand down Anakin’s chest where the front of his Jedi robe left it exposed. He knew that she was testing the atmosphere to determine whether her presence was unwanted. He again felt briefly guilty that she would assume that, but part of him almost seemed to revel in the fact that _she_ was uncertain around _him_ , when it always seemed to be so much the other way round.

“Not if I’ve got you to keep me warm,” Anakin replied, putting his arm around Padmé and pulling her close to him. She was dressed now, wearing a light blue nightgown and dressing-gown, and Anakin did not realise just how cold he had actually been until he felt her radiating warmth against his body. It was an assurance that she was still there, that her blood still flowed and her heart still beat strongly in her chest, and one that he took great comfort in.

Padmé looked up at him, watching him as he studied the movement of the fountain intensely and silently. He had not properly looked at her yet. “I can go back inside, if you want. I understand if you want to be alone.”

“Your presence is soothing,” Anakin murmured, caressing her cheek gently with cold fingers that almost made her flinch at the sensation. He did not particularly want to talk to her about his dream, but he also did not want her to leave. He was being contrary but he didn’t care. They resumed watching the fountain in silence and Anakin could tell that Padmé was uncomfortable. He felt her agitation through the Force, and knew that she was on the brink of breaking their unspoken law.

“Why did you come out after me this time?” Anakin asked, breaking the rule for her. A pointless question, however.

“I’m worried about you, Anakin. After what happened with the Council, and Obi-Wan…”

“Don’t concern yourself with that, Padmé,” Anakin replied tersely.

“Anakin, you should talk about this, about what happened. I know that you’re not okay,” Padmé began gently.

“I’m fine,” Anakin lied.

“Don’t do this, Anakin. Don’t shut me out,” Padmé sighed, betraying a tinge of hurt in her voice. She ran her hand through the sandy curls of his hair, brushing it back where it had fallen into his eyes. Her voice was soft when she spoke again. “Let me help you.”

“I said I’m _fine!_ ” Anakin shouted, and Padmé instinctively recoiled at the force of his words.

There was a horrible silence for a few seconds and then Padmé stood up and moved away from him. “I’ll leave you to your meditation, then,” she replied icily, and she turned on her heel and headed back inside.

“No,” Anakin replied quickly. His temper, that dragon, had burnt out as quickly as it had flared up and he wanted to bite his own damn tongue off for yelling at her. He followed her into the apartment, easily over-taking her small stride and coming to stand in front of her. “Don’t go. I’m sorry.”

Padmé looked at him with pursed lips and folded arms. “I’m your wife, Anakin. I love you and I’m only trying to help you. I feel like you forget that sometimes.”

Anakin hung his head. “I’m sorry, Padmé. I’m just so…”

He didn’t know how to finish. There was not one single word that would truly sum up how he felt right now. Confused? Angry? Relieved? Bitter? Scared? Ah, yes, that was it. _Scared._ Anakin Skywalker was scared, so _very scared_ , for the first time in his life. He was scared of so many things. He was scared of his nightmare. He was scared that he would never be enough for Padmé now. He was scared that he would never find something else to do with his life. He was scared that he had wasted his potential. He was scared that he had abandoned the prophecy that he was supposed to fulfil. Above all, he was scared that he would never let go of being a Jedi. How could he?

“I know,” was all that Padmé said, was all that she needed to say, her voice as soft as the kiss she gave him when she relaxed her stance and moved towards him. Anakin wrapped his arms around her and held her so tightly to his chest, kissing her again and murmuring another apology.

“I just thought that they would… I don’t know,” Anakin began, his voice shaky. “I didn’t think that they would actually let me go. I was foolish, and… I thought that they would change things. I didn’t think they would make me choose…”

“Do you think that you made the right choice?” she whispered. He looked so defeated, and it was hard for her to look at him and see him so conflicted. She felt uncertain too – she wanted him so much however the pragmatist in her felt like the galaxy needed him more. She felt selfish keeping him all to herself but she knew that she would never relinquish him with ease. She tried to tell herself time and again that a relationship should never replace her ability to function independently, that the person she loved should never be the most important thing in her life but with Anakin, everything seemed different. His love for her was just so consuming that it overtook the both of them completely. She was not a singular person anymore, not simply just Padmé; she was also a wife. She existed as a whole new identity now, and she felt like Anakin was something that she just couldn’t live without, like air, food or water. Plainly put, Anakin was a basic necessity in her life.

“I would have lost you, Padmé,” was Anakin’s solemn reply.

“But you seem so uncertain…” Padmé began, however Anakin cut her off.

“I’m not sure what’s going to happen to me now, but … I’m certain of the fact that you’re my wife, and I love you, and I need you. If I had chosen the Order, I would have never seen you again. Not even on a strictly diplomatic basis. They would have never let me have any contact with you for any reason ever again for the rest of our lives. A choice between you and the Order… it was the right choice.”

“I don’t want you to feel lost, Ani. I don’t want you to feel like you’ve sacrificed something so important to you for me,” Padmé said, looking up at him with pained eyes. “I don’t want you to feel like you had no choice because we are married.”

“ _You’re_ so important to me! I don’t know how to make you understand,” Anakin sighed in frustration, releasing her from his arms. He took her hand and led her over to one of the beige sofas in the centre of the opulent living room, where they sat down together and Anakin paused for thought, unsure of how to put into words what he was feeling. He felt like they were having the same conversation that they had had on Varykino two years ago, when he had told her that he loved her but she would not entertain the idea of him giving up his life as a Jedi. It was as hard to put his feelings into words now as it was back then. He felt like he was nineteen again.

“Padmé,” Anakin began, taking her small hand in his. “When I saw you down there in that bunker on Naboo and I thought that there was a possibility of losing you, I knew I had to do whatever I could to help you. I knew I couldn’t lose you. There wasn’t a single thought in my mind except for your safety and I never considered any other choice. Just like when we got married I never considered any other choice. Any choice that takes you away from me, to me, that’s the wrong choice.”

“I feel like you’ve had to choose between me and the galaxy,” Padmé lamented. “I feel like I’ve taken you away from so many people who need you to win this war.”

“I can’t win a war on my own,” Anakin responded drily.

“Yes, but, you’re so important to the war effort. You’re the Republic’s hero, their greatest asset in winning this war,” Padmé explained.

“They’ll find a new hero. The media will be onto the next person doing some great deed in five minutes flat,” Anakin said scornfully.

“What about the Jedi? What about Obi-Wan and Ahsoka?” Padmé continued.

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about that, Padmé,” Anakin replied, tensing up like he had out by the fountain.

Padmé pursed her lips at her husband’s stubbornness but did not comment on it. “I don’t know how you can just walk away from it all so easily.”

Anakin turned to her with a scowl. “What did you want me to do? Leave you?”

“No!” Padmé replied quickly. “I just… I don’t know. It all seems like such a mess and I hope it was worth it.”

Anakin bristled at Padmé’s words and his eyes darkened as he dropped her hand. “I love you, Padmé, and to me it was worth it. I’m sorry that you don’t feel that way.”

“Oh, Anakin, you know that’s not what I meant,” Padmé said in exasperation. He had stood up in response to her previous statement, and he now towered above her with a bitter expression on his face.

“Well what _do_ you mean, Padmé?” Anakin snapped. “I can’t understand you, and you don’t seem to be able to understand me. What is it that _you_ would have done? Left me? Alright, sorry I didn’t do that!”

Padmé sighed, and when she responded it was in her carefully modulated and completely impersonal political tone. She remained seated on the sofa, but her voice carried the same weight as if she was standing ten feet taller than him. “You’re being unreasonable, Anakin. I’m not saying that you made the wrong choice, I’m just trying to get you to think about everything that’s happened and your response to it, because I _know_ you’re not okay and I _know_ you’re not telling me everything.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Padmé, _of course I’m not okay!_ How could I be? But what am I supposed to do? It was you or the Order. I love you, I chose you, that’s it. Unlike you, I can’t have fucking _both_. Of course I’m not okay with what happened, of course I’m not! I’m just trying to deal with this the best I fucking can and you’re not helping at all!” Anakin shouted, his voice almost cracking with anger.

Really, though, it was not a shout at all. It was something much more than that; it was a scream of desperation into the void, a kind of anguished cry that Padmé could not hope to understand. In that moment Anakin lost all sense of self control and he felt himself physically shaking with emotion, the words he spat spilling out of him bitterly before he could even register what he was saying. Everything he had been trying to hold back, every doubting thought that had crossed his mind that he had tried to shut inside a tiny box in the back of his consciousness somewhere spewed forth all over Padmé. Anakin had never shouted at her like that before, had never shouted like that at anyone at all, actually, and all that Padmé could do was sit in a sort of stunned silence without even blinking. Then there was silence, and Anakin sank limply onto the sofa next to her, emptied but not remorseful. He spoke again in a low voice that was so desperately beseeching that it made Padmé’s heart hurt. “I love you, Padmé. I love you so _fucking much_. Why can’t you understand that?”

“I do,” she whispered fiercely, her words spilling out in a rush. “I do understand.”

Anakin sighed and his hands came to rest gently on either side of her face. “Then why are you acting like what I did was a mistake?”

“I don’t think it’s a mistake,” Padmé replied soothingly. She swallowed and took a breath before she continued. “I just… don’t want you to come to resent me.”

“What?”

“I’m worried that later on you’ll look back and you’ll be angry at the choice that you made. That you’ll question whether I was enough,” Padmé confessed, dipping her head so that her loose curls obscured her face.

Anakin gently brushed back her hair and looked into Padmé’s eyes. “The way I feel about you won’t ever change, Padmé. I’ll always love you.”

“And I love you too, Anakin. So much more than you assume of me,” Padmé gently replied.

“In ten years – twenty - _fifty_ years time, if I had to go back and make that choice again, it would be the same. I promise. After having you, loving you, marrying you – I couldn’t go back to a life without that. Could you?”

“No,” Padmé agreed, nodding her head. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t know that you were out there but that we couldn’t be together anymore.”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m not okay with what happened - I’m not okay with not being a Jedi. I can’t be. But it would be worse to lose you,” Anakin explained in a soft voice.

Padmé gave a small nod of her head, understanding that the conversation was over. There were tensions still simmering under the surface, but everything that needed to be said - or could be said now - had been. Whatever happened now, would happen, and it was outside of their control. Their choices had already been made. She exhaled slowly, steadying herself. “We’ll be okay.” It was meant as a statement of fact, but she wished that her voice hadn’t sounded so shaky when she’d said it.

Anakin nodded in silent agreement and held her close, looking out of the transparisteel window of the apartment at the twinkling lights of the city expanse. Nothing was said for a long while as the couple let their emotions settle like dust in the silence. Padmé’s breathing slowed as she relaxed, but Anakin knew that her mind was still running over everything that had happened and still worrying. She was the one to break the silence.

“Is this the only thing that’s troubling you, Ani?”

Anakin sighed. She was always so damn intuitive. Their argument had actually helped him to forget about the real reason why he had woken up before. In some weird way, that seemed like a positive. He responded in a weary tone. “No. I had a dream.”

“Like the ones you used to have about your mother?” Padmé tried to broach the subject as delicately as possible. She knew that his mother’s death was an unhealed wound that still caused him pain to this day.

“Yes.”

“What… happened?” Padmé probed tentatively.

“I’m not entirely sure. It was just a series of images and feelings. I felt-” Anakin paused, frowning. He toyed with one of Padmé’s long curls, running it back and forth through his fingers absently. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt one as strongly as that before. Not even when…”

“Tell me,” Padmé whispered. “Please. Tell me what you felt.”

“The Dark Side, Padmé. It was so strong that it hurt, physically hurt. It felt like it was… inside of me,” Anakin replied.

“Inside of you?” She did not intend for her reply to sound so incredulous.

“Like it was in my blood and my bones, my entire body, everything. I don’t know what it means or why I felt it, but it was… _agonising_ ,” Anakin explained, wincing as he relived the memory.

“Are you ok? Has this ever happened before?”

Anakin looked away. The memories that he had surrounding what had happened to Obi-Wan, Ahsoka and himself on that strange planet, Mortis, were very vague, like trying to remember a dream after waking up halfway through it. Only two things stood out in his mind. The name ‘Son’, and the feeling of the Dark Side.

He turned back to Padmé and when he replied his tone was troubled. “Only once. And I couldn’t explain what happened then, either.”

“Did anything else happen? What did you see?”

“I saw a figure in a hooded cloak, and a purple lightsaber. And I… heard you… _screaming_ ,” Anakin replied slowly, his voice very tense. “I felt you, your presence. Almost as strongly as I felt the Dark Side. You were so _scared_.”

“I suppose… it’s just a dream,” Padmé eventually said. She looked up at her husband and tried to reassure him with a smile. He could tell that she was lying - her mouth didn’t match her eyes. It had been the same when she had said that she wasn’t afraid of the assassin, and when she had said that she didn’t love him.

“Padmé,” Anakin said, looking at her with a startling intensity in his bright blue eyes that she had never seen before. “I won’t let this one become real.”

“Maybe you should talk to someone about this? The other Jedi should know what you saw-” Padmé began, but Anakin interrupted her.

“They didn’t listen to me when I had the dreams about my mother, and they certainly won’t listen to me now,” he retorted, his tone bitter.

“What about Obi-Wan?”

“I don’t want to talk to Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, his mouth set in a hard line. “There’s somebody else that I can talk to, Padmé. Trust me.”

“Okay, Ani, I trust you” she replied, but she had that same look in her eyes that did not match the little quirk of her lips.

Padmé suggested that they return to bed, as it was a ridiculous time somewhere in the early hours of the morning and they should attempt to get at least some rest. She seemed eager to put the night’s drama behind them, but Anakin still felt so unsettled and agitated. He could never sleep after nights like this. He shook his head. “I’m not tired.”

“Please come to bed with me,” Padmé begged, standing behind him as he remained seated on the sofa, her small hands running over his shoulders. Her voice was a silky-smooth whisper. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Anakin knew that what she really meant was that she did not want _him_ to be alone and brooding. That was fine. If he went to bed he did not have to actually sleep, her reasoned, and it meant that she would stop asking him questions that he did not want to have to answer. “Alright,” he conceded, and she took his hand and led him gingerly back to their bedroom.

A little while later as he lay there in bed, naked under the covers and with Padmé asleep in his arms, Anakin tried to focus on the soft sound of her breathing and the warmth that radiated from her bare skin to his. He felt her Force signature strongly, a warm glow that seemed to radiate forth from her very heart. He should not worry so much. She was alive. She would be okay. He was here to protect her, and now he never had to leave. He repeated these things to himself over and over for hours as he lay there sleepless, but the echo of her scream haunted his mind as he lay there awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N #2: I didn’t put this at the top because I didn’t want to spoil anything that happened in this chapter but I just wanted to say that it was somehow the hardest thing to write but the most fun. Also it’s the longest one so far! The original chapter started out completely differently, and then I scrapped it and rewrote it from scratch. It sounds weird, but I really love writing argument scenes. I don’t know why, I guess just because Anakin can be so OTT sometimes and that means he gets to say some really interesting things. Poor Anakin.


	6. Chapter Five: New Beginnings

**CHAPTER FIVE: NEW BEGINNINGS**

For all her years of Jedi training, and the countless monologues about the importance of emotional stability drilled into her by Master Yoda, Ahsoka Tano simply could not calm down. How in Force’s name _could_ she? Her world had just been turned upside down in the space of a five-minute conversation.

“I just don’t under _stand_!” Ahsoka groaned. The frustration in her voice matched the same in her expression, and her words reached Obi-Wan from the other side of her private quarters as she paced up and down in the narrow light of the small open window. “I mean, I do, and I don’t, and I… _ugh!_ This is just a _mess_!”

Obi-Wan watched the young Padawan furiously pacing a hole in the carpet and sighed. “Yes, I know. But, the Council has made their decision.”

“You’re on the Council! Why didn’t you do anything to help him?” Ahsoka snapped, flashing an uncharacteristically bitter look in Obi-Wan’s direction.

“I… Ahsoka, it’s not that easy. I’m only one person,” Obi-Wan countered calmly, although it was hard to fully mask the look of hurt that had coloured his face briefly at Ahsoka’s comment.

If he was being honest with himself, truly honest, Obi-Wan knew that he could have done more. He could have _said_ something. _Should_ have said something, shouldn’t have been so damn stoic and silent and the model of ‘perfect’ Jedi calmness. He had told himself that he was being quiet for Anakin’s sake – he didn’t want to cause a scene that may have somehow made things worse. But if he was being truthful he had just been too defeated, had felt like his voice on the Council meant nothing in relation to this matter. They would never have listened to him, he thought to himself. He was simply too close to the matter. Still. Maybe if he had said _something_ … maybe he wouldn’t have lost not only his partner, but his brother and his best friend. Obi-Wan was brought forth from his grim reverie by the sound of Ahsoka’s demanding voice, and he prepared himself for further lambasting. She seemed so much like a younger Anakin right now, so filled with emotion and no allowance to express it. That thought made him feel sadder.

“You still should have tried,” Ahsoka lamented, and she seemed to tire of her pacing and instead came to sit before Obi-Wan on the narrow cot in the centre of the room. She peered up at him through the gaps in her fingers, slumping dejectedly with her head in her hands. “How could they get rid of him? He’s the best they’ve got. He’s the _Chosen One_ for Force’s sake – doesn’t that mean anything to them?”

“He went against the Code, Ahsoka. That’s all there is to it,” Obi-Wan said plainly, in the same tone he’d dressed-down Anakin with a thousand times. _Force’s sake!_ Everything about this conversation was _so_ like Anakin. Ahsoka really was Anakin’s Padawan. Obi-Wan wondered how much of Anakin was in him as well. He liked to think none, and that _he_ had rubbed off on his pupil, but that was only partly true. Anakin caused a reaction in everyone that altered some part of their personality forever, whether good or bad. The very fact that he, Obi-Wan, was lamenting over all of this was a testament to that.

“Well, _fuck_ the Code!” Ahsoka burst out, the fire returning to her spirit. She stood up again and returned to her frenzied pacing by the window. “What’s going to happen to the Republic now?”

“Anakin wasn’t the only experienced Jedi. The war is not lost,” Obi-Wan said pragmatically. He could tell that his calm rationality was making the situation worse but what else could he do? Was he supposed to scream and stamp his foot like a Youngling?

Ahsoka frowned in silent defeat, and then another thought crossed her mind. “What will happen to _me_ now?”

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. She was not going to like his answer in her present state. “The Council have assigned you to me.”

“ _What?!”_ Ahsoka exploded, whipping round to face Obi-Wan with fire in her eyes. “No! I don’t want to be your Padawan – you’re part of the reason he’s _gone_!”

“Ahsoka, come on. You know that’s not true,” Obi-Wan replied irritably.

Ahsoka sighed and her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I just… don’t know what to do. Anakin was like the only _family_ I ever had. I know it’s stupid and it’s not allowed and he’s just another Jedi but… we were friends. I didn’t feel so out of place anymore…”

Obi-Wan’s face softened and he gestured at Ahsoka to resume her position on the bed. “I’m sorry that Anakin’s gone, believe me I am. And what you said is not stupid - he was like my family too, Ahsoka. The galaxy can be big and dark as a Jedi, and you can feel very alone. It’s important to have relationships that you can rely on to keep you whole.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened at Obi-Wan’s confession, and some light sneaked back into her trademark grin. “You know, Master Kenobi, that sounds very much like you are advocating for attachments, which we all know are against the Code. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

A gentle smile lit Obi-Wan’s face and twinkled in his eye. “Sometimes it is not practical to follow the rules all of the time, Padawan Tano. That’s a lesson I’ve learnt from your old Master.”

Ahsoka gave a little laugh. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. Anakin was gone, yes, but she wasn’t going to be alone completely. Obi-Wan seemed to understand more than she thought.

  
  


*****

“Sir, if you do not have an appointment with the Chancellor, I am going to have to ask you to leave,” the guard said, his voice a flat monotone filled with absolute disdain for anyone or anything that would have the audacity to require him to actually do his job.

Anakin glared at the guard, eyeing him up and down. “I told you, this is an emergency. I need to see the Chancellor _now_.”

“Unless you have an appointment, you are going to have to wait, ‘emergency’ or not,” the guard replied flatly.

Anakin sighed. Okay, this guy just wasn’t going to listen - he had no other choice. It’s not like he was going to go in there and do something _bad_.

Anakin raised his right hand ever so slightly and was about to use a mind-trick on the guard when the large steel door whooshed open unexpectedly, and Anakin came face-to-face with the opulent figure of the Chancellor on the other side.

“Anakin, how nice to see you,” Palpatine said in a welcoming tone, standing aside to let his friend in.

“Chancellor Palpatine. H-how did you know that it was me?” Anakin queried, a little taken-aback.

Palpatine laughed, an unpleasant nasally sound that seemed ironic in its lack of mirth. “I could hear your exchange with that poor guard from my desk! You weren’t going to use some sort of fancy Jedi magic on him, were you?”

“Um… no?” Anakin tried, and Palpatine simply laughed again.

“I’m glad you came to see me, Anakin,” he said, as he led Anakin towards his large desk and offered him a seat. “I heard all about what happened at your meeting with the Council.”

“I must say I’m surprised that you know about it already,” Anakin admitted as he sat down in the high-backed black chair facing Palpatine. “I didn’t think the news had been released yet.”

“Ah, my boy,” Palpatine replied, a thin-lipped smile on his aged face. “News comes to me very quickly. I am the Chancellor, after all.”

A rush of colour clouded Anakin’s cheeks. Of course the Council would have informed Palpatine of their decision - it would be a decisive change to the status of the Clone Wars. “I didn’t mean to imply anything-” he explained quickly.

“I didn’t assume that you did,” Palpatine assured him, leaning back in his chair. “I must say that I completely disagree with their course of action, but that I am not surprised.”

“Why?”

“The Jedi have always been sticklers to that Code of theirs to the point of fault. They discard anyone that doesn’t fit into their narrow mold. I personally see no harm in attachments – emotions are natural, and we should not have to rein in our passions as they are what gives us the most strength, after all,” Palpatine proffered, his hands coming to rest behind his head as if he had satisfied a great hunger by indulging in this little speech. His eyes regarded Anakin keenly, waiting for his reaction. Anakin looked down at his hands and then up again at Palpatine and he seemed unsure of what to offer in response.

Palpatine then spoke again, his reedy voice breaking the silence. “I apologise if I have offended you, Anakin. I do hold the Jedi in the highest regard-”

“No,” Anakin interrupted, deciding then where he stood. “You’re right. Why should we live as passionless _monks_ when our emotions give us the strength to fight and the drive to better ourselves in the mastery of the Force! They preach love, and compassion, and encourage it, but as long as it’s _passive_ , as long as we remain unemotional droids that never experience or offer any semblance of human feeling! _It’s not fair!_ ”

The air rung with the volatility of Anakin’s sudden outburst, and Palpatine smiled and tented his fingers. “Mmm, perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. You are strong, Anakin, and you are passionate. Those emotions aren’t a weakness, like the Jedi claim them to be – they are your _strength_. Now that you are free from the shackles of the Order you do not have to rein them in and try to quell them. You are free to be who you are, and as _powerful_ as you can be.”

Anakin’s brow furrowed and he was confused again about where Palpatine’s conversation was leading. “I don’t really know _who_ I am anymore,” he confessed. “I’ve only ever been two things: a slave or a Jedi. I don’t know what I am now.”

“You are young and full of potential, and I am sorry that the Jedi could not see that. I, on the other hand, wish to see you thrive.”

“What can I do now, though?” Anakin lamented. “I can’t go back to the Order, and-”

“Come and work for me, Anakin. I can put your talents to good use,” Palpatine offered.

Anakin raised an eyebrow. “Work for you?”

“Yes.”

“What would you have me do?”

“As the Chancellor, there are a great number of people who wish to do me harm. Because of this, I need a good security detail that I can trust to do whatever is necessary to protect my life. You’ve met the guard outside, and you’ve no doubt formed a similar conclusion to mine – some aspects of the security around here are severely lacking,” Palpatine explained, gesturing to the closed steel door.

“So you would have me be your office guard?” Anakin asked, his tone unimpressed.

“No, no, my boy, of course not,” Palpatine laughed. “That would be a _severe_ under-utilisation of your skills. No, you would be my… hmmm. What would you call it? You would be someone who _… tracks down and deals with problems_.”

“Like an assassin?” Anakin responded, his expression a little incredulous.

“I wouldn’t call it that. I’m not hiring you to kill people, Anakin. I’m hiring you to _deal with_ problems in whatever way is necessary. That doesn’t automatically involve killing everyone,” Palpatine responded sardonically. He stood up and moved around to the other side of the desk where Anakin was sitting, putting his hand on Anakin’s shoulder and leaning in so that his face was mere inches from Anakin’s own. When he spoke again his voice was low and smooth. Serpentine. “I think this job is a perfect fit for you, Anakin. I’ve watched you grow over all these years and I know that you felt constrained in the role given to you by the Jedi. This is your chance to do the same sort of work – helping get rid of problems – but this time you get to play by your own rules.”

Anakin almost flinched at the Chancellor’s words as he practically whispered them into his ear. He felt uneasy and uncertain – if he accepted this job it felt like cutting the final thread that bound him to his old life. However, it would be sort of the same – he would still be helping people, still solving problems and stopping bad people do bad things. That was what he wanted, right? And Palpatine was his friend, and he had come here to seek a friend’s advice, so he should take it, right?

Palpatine, who had moved back to his seat, watched Anakin with an incalculable expression on his face. “Think of your wife, too, Anakin. Don’t you think she would be proud of you working for the Chancellor?”

That certainly added a new dimension to the offer. Anakin had been worried about what he was going to do now that he was no longer a Jedi and how Padmé would respond, and this seemed to be an offer that would suit both of them. He should take it. There was no reason not to. He would be foolish otherwise – what else could he do? What schooling or training had he had? He could do what – fix junk? Hardly a respectable option for the husband of a galactic senator and a former Jedi. This was all that he had.

He took it. “Thankyou for this opportunity, Chancellor. I am greatly indebted to you for your concern for my well-being over all these years, and now I can repay the favour by being directly responsible for yours.”

Anakin reached out to shake the Chancellor’s hand but upon contact he felt like he had been zapped with electricity, and the scream, that horrible scream from the nightmare, returned. He gasped and stumbled backwards into his chair, clutching at his head.

“Anakin? What’s the matter, my boy?” Palpatine asked, his voice unnaturally calm, standing up and taking hold of his comm-link. “Are you alright? Should I call for aid?”

“I…uh… I’m-” Anakin gasped, trying to straighten up in the chair.

“I’m going to call for some help,” Palpatine said resolutely, and he began the call before the comm-link was removed from his grip by way of the Force.

“I’m… okay,” Anakin panted, and he opened his eyes to see the Chancellor looking at him warily. Straightening up in his chair, Anakin ran a hand through the mess of sweaty curls tangled on his forehead and tried to smile weakly.

“I’m unsure of what just happened to you, Anakin, but it seems like the kind of thing that requires medical attention,” Palpatine responded flatly.

“No, it’s just a Force vision,” Anakin explained, his voice steadier now.

“What, pray tell, is that?”

“It’s like a snippet of the future, or the past, that the Force shows you. It happens all the time as a Jedi but usually not like that.”

“And what happened that time?” Palpatine asked, raising his eyebrows.

“It was just… painful,” Anakin replied. That scream. Her scream. If he never heard it again for a million years, it would be too soon. It was a sound straight out of Sith Hell.

“Painful…” Palpatine seemed to mull this idea over in his mind for a few seconds, his eyes darkening, before he turned back to Anakin with polite concern on his face again. “Are you sure you’re alright, my boy?”

“Yes,” Anakin sniffed, rubbing his eyes. “I just… it’s actually the reason that I came to see you in the first place.”

“Force… visions?”

“Well, not exactly. Nightmares, actually. _A_ nightmare in particular,” Anakin confessed, his expression sombre.

“Like the ones you used to have about your mother?” Palpatine recalled, his fingers brushing over his lips thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Anakin said, bowing his head.

“Are these nightmares about your mother again?”

“No. This one is about… Padmé.”

“Hmm…” Palpatine replied, leaning back in his chair again.

“You were the one who advised me to go to my mother when I was having nightmares about her, and you were right. I don’t know what to do this time,” Anakin explained, brushing back his wayward hair again. “I just feel so lost, and I’m so worried about her – I don’t know what to do.”

“Hmm…” Palpatine repeated, moving forward in his chair so that he was closer to Anakin. “I don’t know if I have an answer for you, I’m afraid. What happens in these nightmares, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m not sure, but I know that she’s in pain. I hear her screaming.”

“And you haven’t told the Jedi about this?” Palpatine questioned.

“No. Why would I? I’m not a Jedi anymore, and they never listened to me the first time.”

“Hmm, yes.” Palpatine gave a little snorting laugh of agreement. “I don’t know how to help you, Anakin. I’m not privy to the ways of the Force, like yourself. All I can advise is that you keep her close and keep an eye on anyone that you think may wish to do her harm. You’re in a prime position to do that now with this new job.”

Anakin felt a small smile touch his lips. The Chancellor was right. This new job would allow him to track down and weed out anyone who would have an issue with Padmé. It would be easy to keep her safe if he had an insider’s perspective to the dangers faced by the Senate, and he would not need to go off-world for long stretches of time and leave her unaccounted for. Yes, this was good. This was maybe even better than being a Jedi – he didn’t have to follow stupid archaic rules, at least.

“I hope that I was able to set your mind at ease, Anakin, and I hope that you will come to view this new career as the rightful path for you – I will certainly be watching with great interest,” Palpatine said, his tone cheerful as he stood up to signify that the meeting had come to an end.

Anakin smiled, genuinely this time, and felt the warmth of it touch his heart and put his doubts to rest. “Thankyou, Chancellor. I am grateful for this opportunity, and I am grateful for your counsel.”

Palpatine opened the door to the chamber and stood aside as Anakin exited, sparing a quick glance at the guard, who purposefully ignored him. Palpatine’s hand came to rest lightly on his shoulder as he bid his young friend farewell. “I will be in touch, Anakin. In the meantime, keep your head above water.”

Anakin nodded and then turned on his heel and headed down the short hallway to the turbo-lift at the end. As he stood in the enclosed lift and headed quickly downwards, he shuddered as the scream from the nightmare pierced through his consciousness again and a strong headache started to form right between his eyes. Rubbing his temples, he tried to assure himself that it was going to be okay. The Chancellor had been able to help him – this new job would be better for him. It was what he needed, he was sure of it. He kept repeating this in his mind as he watched the lights of the lift flash on and off as he reached the bottom floor, and then he left the turbo-lift and strode out of the Senate building without looking back.


	7. Chapter Six: Disagreements

**CHAPTER SIX: DISAGREEMENTS**

Anakin practically leapt out of the turbolift and into the penthouse he shared with his wife, so excited was he to share the news of his new job with Padmé. He opened the door to the apartment with a brief wave of his gloved hand, his flesh one clutching a colourful posy of red Nabooian dusk roses and a bottle of sparkling wine, both Padmé’s favourite. This job was good news and he was happy. He had a solution to his problem now - he had a job with prestige and meaning. Padmé would be satisfied and so would he. He would still be doing something meaningful. He wouldn’t be wasting his talents. He was happy. He was _happy_ , damn it! And now he wanted to celebrate.

Entering the apartment, Anakin searched the Force for his wife’s presence. She was not in their private living room, nor was she in their bedroom. Anakin didn’t even think about checking the kitchen – he was pretty sure the last time Padmé had cooked anything was about fifteen years ago, and even then, he doubted its edibility. She must be in her study, then.

Anakin felt light as he ascended the stairs and made his way towards his wife. Opening the door with a flick of his wrist, he entered the small, cosy room. O ne wall of the room was filled with bookshelves, all  completely full. Actual paper books were a rarity in this day and age and Padmé was quite a collector.  The shelves also housed little trinkets and curios, some from Naboo and others acquired during her extensive travels. Anakin saw, preserved in smooth,  clear  glass, an exotic flower he had once found on a distant moon and taken great pains to conceal for many weeks, intended as a gift for her. He also saw, in a gilt frame, one of the very few photos of them together –  _ properly  _ together . They were on Naboo, on the balcony of Padmé’s private residence, Varykino. He had his arm around her and she was kissing his cheek. They would have been married for around two or three months at that point. A little smile w armed his features as he remembered that time. Things had  been so much simpler then… 

The  third wall of the study  housed a large fireplace and two comfortably plush reading chairs. Anakin’s mind continued to drift back to Naboo, as he remembered the time spent in front of the roaring fire in one of the many private living rooms in Varykino, desperately trying to make Padmé understand how he felt  about her . This fireplace was different, however. It was not quite as big, it was made of smooth, white stone and the fire in it was artificial. It  was fitting for a place such as Coruscant, where everything seemed sterile and f ake . The fourth wall of the room had a large transparisteel window  opening onto  a view of the  P ark  D istrict of Coruscant,  a little oasis of green amongst the cold metal of the rest of the city . Padmé’s large, dark-wood desk and high-backed chair,  brought with her from her time as Queen on Naboo, were positioned in front of the window, and this was where she sat, absorbed in reading something on one of her many datapads.

Anakin could feel her stress radiating through the Force, and he watched her, his presence concealed, as she typed something  on the datapad  furiously, read it back and then began deleting what she had written. She did this several times before placing the datapad down with defeat on the desk and blowing an errant curl from her eyes. Rolling her shoulders in an attempt to relieve the tension of many hours of sitting, she then stood up and  with a little jump  came face-to-face with her grinning husband.

“Anakin, you know I don’t like it when you hide like that,” she said in annoyance. “You know it’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry, milady,” he smiled. “I just liked watching you work.”

Padmé sighed and her shoulders sagged. “I wasn’t working. I was trying to write a communication to my parents. I was trying to explain to them this…  _ situation.  _ It’s impossible, though. I just don’t know how to write  it in a way they’ll understand.”

“Oh, that’s easy, Angel. All you need to tell them is this: one day you met an incredibly handsome, skilled, amazing Jedi,” he gave her a goofy grin and gestured at himself with his free hand. “You were powerless to resist his charms so you had no choice but to get married. It’s been the best two years of your life, and you’ve just been having too many wonderful, rapturous times with your new handsome, skilled, amazing Jedi husband to tell them about it.”

Padmé snorted and rolled her eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”

Anakin, his face nothing but pure innocence, replied: “I’d be much too frightened to tease a Senator.”

Padmé couldn’t help but laugh at this old joke between them. She quickly crossed the small distance between them and his free hand came to rest on her lower back, pulling her closer to him for a gentle kiss. When they broke away, Padmé’s face was once again tense. “I don’t know what to tell them, Ani. They’re going to be so disappointed that I kept it from them.”

“Padmé,” Anakin began softly. “Your family loves you. They want nothing but happiness for you – our marriage has made you happy, hasn’t it?”

Padmé pretended to think this over for a few seconds. “Hmm, I  _ guess _ – when you’re not making stupid jokes.”

“Oh, you’ll pay for that one later, Senator. My jokes are always hilarious, don’t even pretend to think otherwise,” Anakin replied roguishly, a spark in his blue eyes and a half-smile on his lips.

“Oh really? And what are you going to do about it, hey?” Padmé provoked, her voice a low whisper against his lips.

Padmé’s cheeks turned pink as her incredibly handsome, skilled, amazing husband whispered in her ear all of the wonderful, rapturous things he planned to do to her later that night.

“Oh my...” was all she could manage, as her core turned to liquid and fire coursed through her veins.

Anakin  was visibly pleased with his handiwork, and brushed his fingers lightly over his wife’s still-burning cheek. “Don’t worry about your family tonight, Angel. It’s a conversation you should not have to have alone, anyway. Tomorrow we will call them together and explain everything, and I assure you there will be no problem.”

Padmé returned his smile, but not as brightly as she would have liked. She wanted to believe him when he said there would be no problems with her family, but he had said similar things about his meeting with the Jedi Council and she shuddered to remember what had happened there. Her husband liked assurances that everything would be fine, all of the time, especially when it came to her. He had always had a fairy-tale ideal about how their relationship should be and about protecting her from anything that would cause her even the slightest distress. She, however, preferred to face reality pragmatically. The conversation with her family might well go badly. They would likely feel betrayed and hurt about being kept out of something so important in her life, and she didn’t know what the consequences would be. Looking into her husband’s blue eyes, she was glad that she would not have to face it alone. 

Padmé realised that she must have been silently contemplating for longer than she thought, because eventually Anakin asked her if she was alright.

“Oh yes, I’m fine, Ani,” she managed. “You seem in much higher spirits today. I’m glad of it.”

“Well, I have good news I want to celebrate, Padmé. These are for you.” He offered her the roses. Their beauty paled in comparison to the smile that she thanked him with. “And your favourite wine.”

“Thank you, my love. What is your good news?” Padmé asked, admiring the flowers’ brilliantly varied shades of red. 

“I got a new job.”

She looked up at him then, her brows furrowed. “A new job? What do you mean? Where? With who? Doing _what_?”

“With the Chancellor,” Anakin replied proudly.

“The Chancellor...” Padmé mulled these words over for a few seconds, her gaze returning to the flowers as she thought about the implication of these words.

“As part of his security detail,” Anakin continued.

“Security detail? As in a security guard?” 

Anakin snorted. “No, of course not. Something much better than that, something much more suited to my skills,” he scoffed arrogantly. “I’ll be helping him deal with any…  _ problems… _ that arise.”

“Like an assassin?” Padmé asked incredulously.

“No, not an _assassin_!” Anakin snapped, offended. “For Force’s sake, Padmé. What do you take me for? I’m not some petty thug!”

Padmé moved away from him and sat down in one of the reading chairs. “I’m just trying to understand, Anakin. You don’t need to get angry.”

“What is there to understand?” he said testily. “It’s pretty simple. I’ll be working for Chancellor Palpatine and ensuring that there are no threats to his well-being. He needs someone with my skills to stamp out any issues that may arise.”

“And I suppose when you say dealing with ‘issues’ you mean dealings with things like assassins – or likely just with anyone who doesn’t support his views,” Padmé said, staring ahead into the fire. 

Anakin pointedly did not acknowledge her comment.  “I don’t know why you are making such a big deal out of this, Padmé. It’s not much different to what I did…  _ before _ ,” Anakin told her, moving around so that he was standing in front of her, his large frame blocking her view of the fire. 

She looked up at him with anxious eyes. “It  seems very different! It  seems  _ dangerous _ , Anakin. Working for the Chancellor, dealing with hired killers… I wish we had discussed this together beforehand.”

Anakin could feel his rage growing, a dark dragon stirring inside of him. Why was she acting like this? Why wasn’t she happy? This job was a good thing! Why couldn’t she understand that? “Is this because you don’t trust the Chancellor, Padmé?”

“No, I-” she began, before he cut her off.

“You don’t know him like I do. He’s always been kind and generous to me, you know. I’ve always been able to come to him for advice. He’s someone who truly knows me and never judges.” He spat out the words without thinking, the fiery words of the angry dragon inside him beginning to take over control completely. Oh no. This conversation was not going the way he planned. He regretted everything that was coming out of his mouth but he was powerless to stop it. But he couldn’t stop thinking, over and over again: _w_ _hy wouldn’t she just be happy for him?_

Padmé frowned. “I’m not judging you, Anakin. I just don’t know if it was wise to take the first job opportunity that you were given. I mean, everything that happened with the Council is still so fresh...”

Anakin gave a dry, mirthless laugh. “And what else would you have me do, Padmé? I don’t think Coruscant needs any slave mechanics, so maybe you’d rather I just be a house-husband sitting around all day in your gilded cage, waiting for you to return home  from your wonderful, amazing job where you actually get to do what you  _ want _ ?  Where you actually get to feel  _ wanted _ ?  Why aren’t you happy that I have a job that fucking  _ means  _ something? ”

Padmé blinked against the tears welling in her brown eyes. She  stood up quickly and threw the roses onto the floor,  their red petals scattering everywhere,  then pushed past him.  She said nothing until she was standing in the doorway, then turned to him with a face so stricken that Anakin’s heart clenched in his chest. “ I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Anakin. I don’t know why you’re being so cruel.” 

She left without looking at him, and he heard the door to their bedroom open, close and  finally,  lock. 

Oh no. Too far.

Feeling numb, Anakin lowered himself into the other reading chair. Th at damn fiery dragon was gone and  in its ashes all that was left was shame. She was right – what  _ was  _ wrong with him? Why could he not have kept his head then?  Wasn’t he past these childish outbursts?  Of course Padmé would have had questions – she was pragmatic and considered and that was one of the reasons he loved her.  Remember?  He knew she would have been happy  once he’d explained to her what sorts of things he would be doing and how he would be helping the Republic.  He knew s he would be happy that he had found something fulfilling to do.  Of course she’d be happy for him!

H e’d never spoken to her like that before. He could not believe he’d actually made her  _ cry _ . What in Force’s name was wrong with him?  What kind of husband did  _ that?  _ _ WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HIM?  _

Anakin felt sick and angry at himself as he watched the artificial flames dancing in the fireplace, their artificial warmth never reaching him. He sat there for a long time without moving, thinking of those last words he said to her and the way her face had crumpled as they’ d struck . He wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but he felt too shameful to show his face to her. Eventually he could not stand it anymore, and used the Force to bring the bottle of sparkling wine to him. He downed the bottle quickly and then sat there in front of the fire thinking of nothing for a very long time. 

*****

The air of the Council Chambers was cool, reflecting the atmosphere of the room. The three Jedi Masters sat facing each other in the otherwise empty s pace , saying nothing.

Master Yoda and Master Windu were both silently digesting everything that Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had told them about Anakin – his daring and selfless exploits to save others, his ability to remain level-headed in combat situations, his progress with Ahsoka’s training. It was a last-ditch effort, and he knew it – once the Council made up their minds about something, they rarely changed their opinion (“flippant, the  W ill of the Force, is not,” Master Yoda would say), but Obi-Wan knew that he had to at least try. They were making a big mistake dismissing Anakin. Hadn’t what he said rung true – he had been able to carry out his duties and train Ahsoka to the best of his ability, all whilst remaining married? His attachment to Padmé had not seemed to weaken his resolve to be an accomplished Jedi Master at all. 

“He’s grown so much over these past two years, you have to admit that,” Obi-Wan implored the two stoic Council members.

“Yes, a calmer spirit, young Skywalker now possesses. Admit this, we must,” Yoda agreed. 

“And don’t you think his marriage has got anything to do with that?” Obi-Wan offered. “Senator Amidala is renowned for her composed, sensible demeanour. I am sure she has been a good influence on Anakin.”

“I do not deny that there has been a change in Skywalker of late,” Mace Windu began. “But be that as it may, he has still broken the Code.”

“Is his marriage so serious an infraction that we should dismiss him from our ranks completely?” Obi-Wan responded tensely.

“If we allow Skywalker to break the rules unpunished, what example are we setting? Marriage _is_ a serious infraction, Master Kenobi. It goes against everything that we stand for as Jedi. We are supposed to be Masters of our emotions. A romantic attachment is full of passion, which betrays this ideal completely,” Mace replied coolly.

“But do our teachings not tell us that we should harbour love and compassion for all beings? I admit that a romantic attachment may not be the way this idea was supposed to be interpreted, but surely you have to admit that Anakin’s marriage has strengthened his abilities, not taken away from them,” Obi-Wan countered, brushing his hair back angrily.

“Marriage is a violation of our Code, plain and simple, Kenobi,” Mace said. “It creates distractions and causes problems. A Jedi cannot truly surrender themselves to be one with the Force if they harbour other attachments.”

“But he’s the _CHOSEN ONE_!” Obi-Wan shouted. He was surprised at the ferocity of his own outburst. “Surely that has to count for _something_?”

In response to Obi-Wan’s words, Mace shifted in his chair so that he was leaning slightly forward and his dark eyes met Obi-Wan’s in a steely unbroken gaze. “You would be wise to temper your outbursts, Kenobi. They are unbecoming for a Jedi Master and I fear you betray too much in them.”

“You have done a superb job of making your feelings clear for the last twelve years, Windu, especially when Anakin is concerned,” Obi-Wan responded icily.

Yoda, who had been sitting in silent contemplation for the majority of this conversation, tapped his cane on the smooth floor  to interrupt the stand-off. “Peace and tranquillity, you both must find. A resolution, this conversation does not have. Clouded, Anakin Skywalker’s future is. Perhaps misread, the prophecy was.”

“So you will not have him back in the Order, Master Yoda?” Obi-Wan asked with defeat in his voice.

“Unfortunate it is that I cannot provide the answer that you seek, Master Kenobi. Remember the Jedi Code, we must. Cause danger, attachments do – for both parties. Remain expelled from our ranks, Skywalker must, however look on his time with fondness, we will.”

Obi-Wan nodded and, with some difficulty, controlled his expression. Rising from his Council seat he bowed, first to Master Yoda and then to Master Windu. Mace regarded him with a brief expression of disdain, then his face was an emotionless mask once more.

“Thank you for your time, Masters. It is unfortunate that we could not come to a mutual decision, but I will continue to uphold the will of the Council, and the will of the Force,” Obi-Wan said diplomatically.

“Understand that it is difficult, we do,” Yoda said gently. “For all of us, difficult to see Skywalker go, it is. Mysterious, the Force is. Unclear, its intentions often are. With the knowledge that you did your best, find peace, Master Kenobi.”

“Thank you, Master Yoda. May the Force be with both of you.”

“And with you,” Yoda replied. Mace nodded but remained silent.

Obi-Wan left the Council chambers feeling exasperated.  He understood Mace Windu’s response – the man was such a stickler to the Code that he would have never have allowed Anakin to be trained in the first place as he was technically too old when he came to the Temple. However Obi-Wan knew Master Yoda to be more flexible. He was a wise and experienced Jedi Master who, whilst a strong adherent to the Jedi Code himself, would waive certain rules and expectations if necessary to fulfil the Will of the Force.  He had advocated for Anakin’s training because of the fated prophecy.  Wasn’t Anakin the Chosen One? What did the Will of the Force have to say about that?

Running a hand through his hair, Obi-Wan realised he had been clenching his teeth for the entire duration of the meeting. He felt an ache in his jaw when he got back to his private quarters, and a headache coming on. Wanting nothing more than to lie down and rest in the dark, Obi-Wan was annoyed to come across his new padawan Ahsoka Tano sitting on the floor outside the door to his room. She looked tired, and her position told him that she had been waiting there for quite some time. With a twinge of sadness Obi-Wan remembered how he had seen Anakin sitting like that outside his door several times, when he had been a young boy and Obi-Wan  was his only source of comfort for the aching sadness that the lack of contact with his mother had caused him. Obi-Wan’s expression softened.

“How long have you been waiting there for?” he asked gently.

Ahsoka, who had been lightly dozing, woke with a start. “Oh, I don’t know. A few hours,” she sniffed.

“You know, Anakin used to wait there like that when he was a Padawan, too,” Obi-Wan reminisced.

“Hmm, I guess we are similar in even more ways than I thought,” Ahsoka replied.

Obi-Wan extended a hand to help her up. “Come inside and have some tea,” he said.

Ahsoka  followed him in . When they were inside, she sat down at the small, utilitarian table pushed up against one of the walls. “Did you talk to the Council?” she asked boldly.

Obi-Wan nodded as he measured out fragrant black tea leaves and put them into a plain metal tea-dispenser. He then moved to the sink in the counter near the table and filled the tea-dispenser with boiling water. A smoky, exotic scent filled the room as the tea leaves steeped.

“And?” Ahsoka pressed after a few moments of silence.

“I talked to Master Yoda and Master Windu. They aren’t going to change their minds about Anakin,” Obi-Wan responded, busy pouring tea into two white ceramic cups.

“Oh,” was all Ahoska said, dejectedly.

“I’m sorry, Ahsoka, believe me, I am. But there isn’t anything else I can do. I can’t defy the wishes of the Council, or the will of the Force,” Obi-Wan said, echoing the sentiments of his previous conversation.

“Mmm,” Ahsoka said, focusing on her tea. Her eyes were misty. Obi-Wan pretended he didn’t see that. 

Silence, however not  an  uncomfortable  one , filled the little room for a while. Obi-Wan watched all manner of vehicles speed by outside the window and Ahsoka used the Force to make patterns in the tea leaves at the bottom of her cup. 

Eventually, as the sun began to sink below the view of the mega - skyscrapers, Ahsoka asked Obi-Wan a question that he too had been ruminating on since the day of Anakin’s meeting with the Council.

“Do you think he’s alright?”

“Anakin? Well… I don’t know.”

“Have you spoken to him yet?” Ahsoka queried, the tea leaves in her cup following the circle that her index finger made in the air.

“No. And he’s closed himself off to me in the Force. I can’t get a read on him at all.”

“Was he angry? That day, after he and Senator Amidala met with the Council?”

“Yes, I believe he was,” Obi-Wan said, his gaze following a particularly bright yellow speeder as it flashed past the window in a blur.

“Do you think the Council will ever change their minds?”

“Perhaps, if he ends his relationship with Senator Amidala.”

Ahsoka snorted. “That will never happen.”

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. “No, I don’t believe it will.  I’ve never known a love as strong as Anakin has for his wife. It’s so strong I could feel traces of it in the Force, even though he always tried to shield it from me.”

“Mhmm,” Ahsoka agreed. “Sky-Guy and Senator Amidala are head-over-heels for each other. You don’t need the Force to know that. You could see it on their faces every time they so much as said ‘hello’ to each other.” 

N othing more was said on that matter for the rest of the evening. Ahsoka thanked her new Master for the tea and bid him goodnight. Obi-Wan, relieved to be alone with his thoughts, stretched out on his bed in the dark and simply let the waves of the Force wash over him. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  



	8. Chapter Seven: The Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has reviewed or given positive feedback on the story. It means a lot to me and really helps motivate me to keep going. I’m glad that this work is being positively received, as it’s been an absolute joy to be “back in the saddle” writing this again!

**CHAPTER SEVEN: THE JOB**

As the call connected Padmé braced herself for what was to come next. Despite trying to keep her breathing slow and steady she could not help but feel the panic rising within and it very quickly began to erase all of the careful conversation she had planned for this meeting.

“Padmé? Hello, darling!” her mother’s soft voice greeted her pleasantly.

“Hello, mom. I hope I’m not calling too early?” Padmé responded, trying to keep her voice cheerful and level.

“No, not at all, dear! Your father and I are always happy to hear from you no matter the hour. Is everything ok?”

Padmé nodded reflexively, then paused before shaking her head. “I… I uh...”

“Darling? What is it? What’s the matter?” Jobal asked, her dark eyes narrowing with concern.

“I uh… is dad around? I need to tell you something, and it’s probably best if you both hear it from me.”

“Oh. He’s just finishing breakfast. I can go and get him,” Jobal replied, quickly rising from her seat and heading out of the room, her long skirts swishing behind her.

Padmé heard her mother calling “Ruwee!” loudly down the hallway. She took another shaky breath.

_Calm down! s_ he inwardly chastised herself.  _You got through a meeting with the Jedi Council so you can certainly get through a meeting with your own parents! What in Force’s name is wrong with you? You’re stronger than this! You’re a senator! You were a_ queen!

Jobal returned promptly, and when both of her parents sat down before their communicator and waited expectantly for their daughter to begin, Padmé found that despite her inward assurances to herself, she couldn’t find her voice at all. What could she say to them? How could she tell them that not only was she _married_ , but she had been married for _two years_ , and to a _Jedi_ , no less. Well. No. A _former_ Jedi…

“Padmé, love, what’s wrong?” Ruwee asked, his gruff voice filled with concern. “Whatever it is, you know you can always talk to us.”

“I… I know,” Padmé whispered. She took one final deep breath and began speaking quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush before she lost her courage again. “Alright, mom and dad, I have some news. And before I tell you what it is, I apologize, so, _so_ sincerely for not telling you beforehand. I couldn’t, though, and you’ll understand when I explain it all to you.”

 _Force_ how she wished Anakin was here with her now. This conversation would be so much easier with her husband by her side. Unfortunately, though, he was not here. She did not know where he was. He had gone out early that morning without telling her where he was going or when he was coming back. They were both still refusing to speak to each other, and Padmé wondered if it was making him feel as exhausted and hurt as it was her.

Ruwee and Jobal exchanged puzzled glances, then turned back to their beloved youngest daughter.

“So, two years ago I… I got married.” Padmé’s steely-sweet voice finally revealed to her parents the secret that had been weighing down her heart for two years.

Ruwee and Jobal said nothing. They just stared at their daughter. Padmé held their gaze, but did not know how long she could take it. It felt like forever before anyone spoke.

“You… you got _married_?” Jobal whispered.

“ _Married_?” Ruwee echoed.

Padmé nodded, brushing back her loose brown curls behind her shoulders.

“W-why did you not tell us?” Jobal asked softly, and sorrow glistened in Padmé’s eyes at the sound of utter betrayal that clouded her mother’s voice.

“I couldn’t,” Padmé said softly.

“Why?” Ruwee demanded. His voice was unexpectedly fierce. “Why could our own daughter not tell us she was _married?”_

“Because I married Anakin,” Padmé replied simply.

“Anakin?” Jobal couldn’t comprehend it at first. The name wouldn’t - or couldn’t - register. “Anakin?”

“You don’t mean Anakin _Skywalker,_ do you?” her father said slowly. “Jedi Knight _Anakin Skywalker?_ ”

Padmé nodded. Once again her parents were silent, needing the time to digest this  series of  increasingly  unexpected revelation s .  And, once again, the extended silence filled  Padmé  with awful anxiety, but she did not know what to say to e nd  it.

“I thought Jedi were not allowed to get married.” It was Jobal who again broke the silence.

“They aren’t. But we fell in love. We couldn’t help it. When he came with me to Naboo to protect me from the assassin we spent so much time with each other and got to know each other well and it just all happened so quickly!”

Her parents were silent. Padmé’ was acutely aware that she sounded like a love-sick schoolgirl talking about her first boyfriend. She needed to make her parents understand. She needed to make sure they didn’t dismiss this as a wanton fancy. She watched them, waiting. Her brown eyes were beseeching. 

“Please, mother, father, you _have_ to understand. We knew it was forbidden but we love each other _so much_. Feeling the way we do about each other, and after what happened on Geonosis we… we _had_ to get married. I… I couldn’t – I _can’t_ – be without him. I love him so much, so much more than I ever thought I could love anything or anyone, and he loves me the same way. I… I can’t even _describe_ how much we love each other!” The words tumbled out like water over a burst dam, Padmé speaking so quickly that all the sentences ran into each-other and her parents had a hard time keeping up with her. 

She was crying, her tears flowing as fast as her words. She didn’t think about what she said, she merely said what she felt. She poured her heart out to her parents, feeling so awful at keeping such a secret from a family who she loved so much.

Jobal listened carefully to her daughter’s honest words, then, surprisingly, smiled. “You know, I suspected something when you brought him home that time you were hiding on Naboo. The way you looked at each other, without even meaning to… I could tell he was in love with you.”

“So… so you’re not upset? You’re not angry at me?” Padmé asked quietly, wiping a falling tear from her cheek.

Her parents both smiled now, and Padmé felt the warmth of it even through the hologram.

“We are not angry at you, Padmé. How could we be? We are only sad that you have had to keep such a wonderful thing such as love hidden – it cannot have been easy for you,” Ruwee said gently.

Padmé shook her head, remembering back to all those dark, lonely times when her husband had been off on some distant world and she had no way of knowing what he was doing or if he was safe. “It’s been so difficult. Anakin is away fighting in the war so often and when we do get to be together it has to be kept secret, as if we’re doing something wrong.”

Jobal looked at Padmé with  motherly  concern. “It warms my heart to know that you have found such a strong love in your life, my daughter, but it  also  hurts me to know that it causes you such pain. And we must know: why are you telling us this secret now?”

Padmé bit her lip. “Because it’s not a secret anymore. I wanted you to know from me before you found it out from the Holo-Net.”

Her parents waited for answers, and Padmé explained the whole situation to them: the Blue Shadow Virus, what Anakin had told Obi-Wan, and then finally what her and Anakin had told the Jedi Council.

“So what will become of Anakin now that he is no longer allowed to be a Jedi?” Ruwee asked.

Tears filled Padmé’s eyes again at the remembrance of her bitter argument with her husband  nearly a week before . “I don’t know,” she replied wearily. “The Chancellor has asked Anakin to work for him but...”

“You do not think this is a good thing.” Jobal succinctly finished her daughter’s sentence.

“I worry about the kind of work the Chancellor will ask Anakin to do. And I worry that Anakin has only taken this job because he is struggling with his future, and he doesn’t want to disappoint me...”

Her parents nodded thoughtfully.

“Where is Anakin? Why is he not with you now, my darling?” Ruwee suddenly asked.

“He… we… last week...” But Padmé could not get any more of the words out. She broke down again, her shoulders heaving with painful sobs. This week had been so long, so dreadfully long, and she was so awfully tired. 

Her parents looked at each other, very concerned, as they watched their daughter cry and cry. After a while her misery ran its course, and she was able to tell her parents about the argument she had had with her husband.

“My sweet daughter, in any marriage there are ups and downs, no matter how much you love each other. What is important is that you communicate with each other honestly when things get tough. If your love is strong enough it can survive any rough patch, as long as you are open with each other, and as long as you are both prepared to work for a strong and happy relationship,” her mother told her softly.

“Anakin is many things – he may be brave, he may be talented – but he is also a man, and men will do many things for their pride. He is in a difficult position right now, having lost his former identity. He needs to find himself again. His pride has been severely wounded. Let him lick his wounds, and he will come back to you the same as he was. Your love and your care will guide him down the right path, I know it,” Ruwee said sagely.

Padmé smiled,  a weak but genuine one , feeling  a little  like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She thanked her parents and the three members of the Naberrie family said their goodbyes to one another. Padmé ended the call and  sat for a while in her office chair,  reflect ing on her parent’s words. She hoped they were right  and that love would be enough. She wondered how long it would take her husband to see that she wanted nothing more than that from him.  A ll she wanted was for him to be safe and doing the right thing, and  that he stayed the same courageous, kind and loving man she had married two years ago. 

She wondered how long it would take for the Anakin she knew, the Anakin she loved, to come back to her.

*****

Anakin’s mood was dark, a stark and unfortunate contrast to the absolute lightness he was filled with a t the beginning of the week .

His mind sifted through the events of that night lazily – he was exhausted, having had little sleep the night before. When he had eventually crept into bed alongside his wife that night she was feigning sleep, but he saw the wetness on her cheeks. He debated waking her, having decided to apologize and start that conversation that had gone so very wrong over again, but in the end he found he didn’t know what to say to her. He decided then that maybe he wasn’t ready to apologize after all. After that he lay there in bed for hours, not moving, his posture a mirror-image of his wife’s beside him. Padmé awoke before him and instead of waking him with a kiss like she always did, he woke in the morning to find her side of the bed cold and his wife already gone from the apartment.

It had remained like that every day that week. The couple did not speak to each other at all and barely even saw each other. Anakin had spent his days brooding in the apartment, brooding whilst doing repairs on his ship or brooding whilst visiting various bars in Coruscant’s lower levels. Padmé had spent most of her time at the Senate building, returning only very late at night. They still shared their bed but it was not intimate. So often Anakin would roll over onto his side and face her back, aching to reach out and just touch the soft skin of her bare shoulder. He knew that she was longing for him to do it, but his stubborn nature refused to budge. He was also burdened with a strong sense of shame at how he had behaved that awful night, and as each day passed without a detente his shame grew, and it seemed to become harder and harder to reach out to her again.

Now, as he rode the Chancellor’s private turbolift to his office, Anakin felt not only anger within himself, but sadness. Those two feelings began to lead his thoughts into dangerous territory.

_It’s her fault_ . 

_No, stop it. That’s not true._

_She loves you. She’s your Angel. She’s just worried about you._

_But why can’t she just understand…_

_Stop it. Control yourself. You’re a Jedi, you’re better than this._

_No you’re not. Not anymore._

Anakin stepped out of the turbolift and passed confidently by the guards, who no longer tried to stop him. He had come as soon as he was summoned and had arrived promptly, despite the early morning hour and another rough night of no sleep beforehand. He found he it made him happier than he had anticipated to be greeted by a friendly, smiling face. The Chancellor held out his hand enthusiastically and Anakin shook it, before being shown to one of the large seats placed before the Chancellor’s imposing desk.

“Anakin, my boy, I am glad I can count on you to arrive quickly when needed,” the Chancellor said, his voice friendly. “Can I offer you anything? Tea, perhaps?”

“No thank you,” Anakin wearily replied, waving away the Chancellor’s offer with his gloved hand.

“Hmm, suit yourself then. I’ll have a cup,” said the Chancellor, addressing the last of what he said to the aide standing near him.

The aide hurried off, and while he waited for he r return the Chancellor studied t he young man sitting  listlessl y in the chair  before him . “Are you alright, Anakin?”

“Of course. Why do you ask?” Anakin’s response was harsher than he intended, and he hoped the Chancellor had not noticed. 

He was wrong.

“You seem tense, my young friend. Whatever is the matter?”

Anakin shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

The Chancellor’s thin lips curled into a smile that did not quite seem to touch his steely eyes. “Anakin, you know you can tell me anything. I’ve always looked out for you and had your best interests at heart.”

Anakin sighed an achingly tired sigh. What the Chancellor said was true, and besides, who else could he talk to about Padmé now? Obi-Wan? Ahsoka? Like always, he banished any thought of them as quickly as it arose.

“It’s Padmé,” Anakin began. He tried to hide it but some sorrow escaped into his response.

“Oh?” Palpatine raised an eyebrow, curious.

Anakin thought about his next words before offering them, not wanting to offend the Chancellor in any way. He was so incredibly grateful for this opportunity he had been given. However, he strongly desired counsel from his friend - he had nobody else to turn to. “She’s… she’s unhappy. About this new job of mine.”

“Hmm. I see,” Palpatine replied. If Anakin had offended him in any way, he did not show it. His voice was completely neutral. “And what exactly makes her unhappy about it?”

Anakin s cowled in annoyance. “She thinks it’s too dangerous for me.”

To Anakin’s surprise, the Chancellor responded with laughter. It was a strange sound, and Anakin unconsciously recoiled upon hearing it. 

“I-I don’t understand, Chancellor. Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, Anakin, my dear boy. I pray you are not offended. I assure you that I am not laughing at your expense. I am merely laughing at the fact that anyone could ever think that anything is too dangerous for _you_ of all beings. You are the _Chosen One_ after all!” Palpatine responded, still chuckling mildly.

Anakin frowned. “I’m not the Chosen One anymore.”

Palpatine waved away Anakin’s response as if it meant nothing. “Ah, disregard the Jedi. It should be obvious to you now that they have no idea what they are doing. Just because you are no longer a Jedi does not mean you are no longer a Force User, and it definitely does not mean you are no longer the most _powerful_ Force User in the galaxy.”

A small smile lit up Anakin’s previously sullen features. “I suppose you’re right. Just because I’m not a Jedi doesn’t mean I can’t use the Force anymore.” As if to illustrate his point he used said Force to float the teacup out of the hands of the aide as she entered the room. The teacup landed carefully on the Chancellor’s desk without spilling a drop.

The Chancellor smiled and clapped his hands as if this little parlour trick was the most exciting thing he had seen in years. “Excellent, Anakin! See what I mean? You don’t need to be a Jedi to be the Chosen One. You just need to maintain your connection to the Force. Nothing will happen to you when you work for me, because nothing _could_ happen to you! Nobody else could hope to match your level of skill - surely Padmé can understand that!”

“Surely,” Anakin repeated quietly, his ego thoroughly stoked. “ _Surely_.”

“Talk to her tonight. Take her out somewhere or have a nice dinner at home – you’ll know what she prefers. She’s strong-willed, so it might take a while, but I am sure she will understand eventually. She is your _wife_ , after all – she only wants what is best for you.”

Anakin nodded. He was already forming plans for the evening.

“Now that that matter is sorted,” the Chancellor continued, as if Anakin’s problem was already solved merely by conversing with him, “we can get on with the business of why I summoned you here so early.”

Anakin drew himself closer to the older man, listening intently. 

“I have reason to believe that somebody is trying to infiltrate my personal communication logs. Whoever it is is very good at their job, as my security detail have had no luck in finding them. So, I need someone with better skills than they have for finding and dealing with spies. That someone is you, Anakin.” The Chancellor spoke in a low voice. It was clear that he was concerned.

“That sounds incredibly serious,” Anakin said solemnly. “You have my word that I will find out whoever is doing this and bring them to justice. Are there any potential suspects?”

Palpatine nodded, tenting his fingers as he replied. “A few.” He activated one of the several data-pads lying on the large desk before him, found the document he wanted and passed the data-pad to Anakin. It was a list of names and details.

_Zygor Zyblek – diplomat from the planet Kyrat. Potentially interested in finding out personal information to use as leverage to make Kyrat’s trade deals with Coruscant more profitable. Planet is in serious financial trouble; many citizens fleeing the world as a result. Threat level: medium._

_Amoor Dadelanius – diplomat from the minor moon Yani 8. Potentially interested in using Chancellor’s personal communications as a way to gain information about his many enemies. Threat level: low._

_Libellia Quark – leader of the recently formed terrorist group known as Free Voices. Operating in the Lower Levels of Coruscant. Group was responsible for the recent attacks on several private apartments housing Coruscant’s politicians and plans have been uncovered outlining an attempted attack on the Senate building. Group is increasingly discontent with what they perceive as “lack of opportunity” for the citizens living in the Lower Levels. Could use private information gathered from Chancellor’s personal communications to plan future terrorist attacks. Threat level: high._

Anakin studied the list carefully. He would have to investigate all three of the suspects but it was the final one, Libellia Quark, who concerned him the most. Any attack on politicians could mean a potential attack on his wife. If he had known about Quark he would have stopped her even if the Chancellor had not requested it.

“ Here,  Anakin,  this data-pad is for you. I have set up an account but you will need to reset the password to one of your own. I will send written communications through it. Do not let anyone else see them – not even your wife,”  Palpatine told him, passing him the data-pad. “All other communications will come through your Comm-Link on an encrypted channel.  Again, do not pass on any of that information to anybody at all. ” 

“ I understand,” Anakin said  gravely.

Palpatine smiled that thin-lipped smile again. It was hard to tell if it was completely sincere. “I know you won’t fail me, Anakin.”

Anakin on the other hand had a smile that was clearly and utterly sincere. “I will start investigating this right away.”

“Thank you,” the Chancellor responded. “Oh, and before you go, there is one other thing. I know you are handy with a blaster, but you’d be even more deadly with something like this...”

Palpatine nodded at the aide, who left her position standing quietly behind the Chancellor’s desk and went to a safe hidden neatly in a cupboard a the back of the expansive room. When she returned she was holding a large box made of a light but secure metal. Anakin recognised it instantly as a weapons case. He looked at the Chancellor for confirmation, who merely gestured at him to open the case.

Anakin rose to his full height, an intimidating figure in all-black. Despite having  abandoned his Jedi attire when he was dismissed from the Order, his civilian clothes remained remarkably similar. He wore dark trousers, tunic and leather boots, topped off with a remarkable cloak  made  of  rich material in  the darkest midnight.  Any foe standing in his way would have a hard time keeping their composure  when faced with such an opponent .  He absolutely radiated power and strength. 

Anakin took the case from the aide an d opened it using the Force.  Carefully placed i nside, he found a weapon he had only  ever  heard of  in legends . 

A darksab er . 

The  polished metal of the hilt beckoned  to him and Anakin could n o t resist picking it up and activating it right then and there. It felt so  _right_ to have a sab er in his hands again. Even though it wasn’t his own, the one he had  carefully  built with his own two hands, this  weapon instantly felt like an extension of him.  He could feel the power emanating from its  menacing  black blade. He could not believe that he was holding this ancient weapon, and he could not believe  that  the Chancellor was gifting it to him without a word. 

“I thought there was only one of these in existence,” Anakin said, awed. He moved the blade around in the empty space before him, relishing the faint, high-pitched buzz it made as it cut through the air. 

“No, there were more. The Jedi only _knew about_ one, but more were made by – and taken from – the people of Mandalore. I can not be sure exactly _how many_ there are, but the idea that there is only one darksaber in existence is another falsehood told to you by the Jedi,” Palpatine explained nonchalantly, tenting his fingers again. 

H e watched Anakin  expertly perform several sab er  moves before turning off the blade and attaching it to his belt.  He could see the elation in the young man’s face at once again having a weapon that he was truly a master of.  The Chancellor  himself was elated to finally have such a powerful asset as Anakin Skywalker at his disposal.  And with that blade…  well,  he would  simply be unstoppable now.

“Thank you, Chancellor. I will use this weapon well, and I promise I will not disappoint you,” Anakin assured his friend solemnly.

“I do not doubt it,” the Chancellor responded, an obscure smile on his face.

*****

Anakin spent  the rest of  his first day working for Chancellor  Palpatine in a small, neat and private office  doing a variety of different things, all of which proved to be  relatively useless.  He decided to begin his search for the being responsible for the attempted unauthorised access of the Chancellor’s personal communications by reviewing security holograms, starting with any tagged as featuring Amoor Dadelanius. As Dadelanius was the least threatening of the three identified subjects, Anakin d ecided that it would be best to investigate him first,  hoping to be able to just cross him off the list. 

This first course of action proved to be fruitless, however, as although Dadelanius had met with the Chancellor before, it had only been in a public setting, and the two had communicated very little. These security holograms were soundless, and although Anakin studied the little blue figures very carefully, they both behaved with utmost civility towards each other, and it was clear that there was nothing to be gained from this line of inquiry.

Anakin was a little disappointed, but did not let this derail him. He then turned to the Holo-News archives and searched for any stories featuring any mention of Dadelanius. This proved useless as well, however. As Dadelanius was a politician of such small standing there was very little information publicly available about him. The only stories that mentioned him involved alliances with other worlds, or his moon’s involvement in some small-scale project. The only face-to-face meetings he had had with the Chancellor were when he was discussing one of these unremarkable works – things such as a factory operating on the moon that would service the Republic with new armour or a new mine that would provide raw materials to build Republic ships. There was no mention at all of any of his apparently abundant feuds.

It was then that Anakin began to feel frustrated, and then, as his efforts continued to produce no results, disappointment. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to find out the right information? He was a _warrior_ , not a _detective –_ what was the Chancellor expecting from him?

D eflated, he sat back in his chair and turned off the data-pad . He had taken on this first assignment with so much enthusiasm, so eager to prove himself, his confidence buoyed by the Chancellor’s compliments until  it had turned into an arrogant belief that he was the perfect man for the job and he would quickly accomplish what the Chancellor’s security detail had failed to achieve.  Unsure what to do next, Anakin stared out the small window that gave him a view of Coruscant’s most expensive apartment buildings, the most prominent of which was his home with Padmé. 

Padmé . As much as he needed to prove himself to the Chancellor, he needed to prove himself to Padmé perhaps even more. She had not been happy that he had taken on this job, so he needed to prove to her that not only was it a worthy occupation  for him , but that he was actually good at it.  He needed to prove that if he was not a Jedi, he had not become nothing.  He did not like to think it, but he knew he needed to prove that to himself as well. 

Padmé was here in this building with him, tucked away in her office on a lower floor. She was no doubt working hard, maybe on a new bill, maybe on a new speech. He could feel her presence through the Force, and as he reclined in his chair he focused in on it more intently. She was tired, and she was annoyed. Most of all, however, she was sad. The waves of her emotion washed over him completely, and he had the strongest urge to leap from his seat, go to her office and take her in his arms. They had not spoken in days and he was sorry for it. How many weeks, how many months, had they spent so very far apart with no way to contact each other, yet here they were, mere floors apart, refusing to speak to each other. Why was he being ruled by stubbornness and pride? What he would have given, just weeks ago, to be even this close to her. The fact that he was free to be with her, completely and utterly free to claim her as his wife before the whole galaxy, and instead they weren’t speaking at all, seemed so utterly ludicrous to him then.

And that dream… her screams…

What if… what if that was true? What if that dream was going to come true like it had with his mother and he was going to lose Padmé, he was going to lose his beloved wife, the person who he loved more than anything in the entire galaxy? And what if it happened soon? What if it happened today? Tomorrow? Next week? And he had wasted all this time…

Anakin knew he had to see her. Even if they didn’t agree, even if the next time they spoke to each other ended in another argument, at least they would be communicating, and they could work on trying to fix the problems between them. If they carried on like this the rift would only grow deeper and they would both fall into it and be lost to each other.  The thought of that… it was simply too much to bear.  That dark dragon, so often the d eliverer  of his anger, now brought him nothing but fear. Fear that he was running out of time, that he wouldn’t be able to understand what was happening. Fear that he was going to lose her…  That he wouldn’t be able to save her…  Just like his mother...

_ Stop. Stop thinking about it _ , Anakin pleaded with his mind.  _ It’s just a dream. Just a dream. _

He tried to calm his breathing, running a hand over his face. It was all alright. He would see her tonight. He would plan a wonderful evening for her, and he would apologize for his outburst that awful night. They would work through it. They always did. It was all alright. 

He was impatient at the thought of more hours without her, but  occupied his restless mind by trying to focus on the Dadelanius case again.  As much as he tried, though, he couldn’t stop his  thoughts  drifting back to his wife. Thoughts of how much he wanted to hear her laughter, to taste her sweet kiss,  how he hoped he would always be able to keep her safe … 

And then he suddenly had an idea of what to do  to solve the Chancellor’s problem . He remembered back to before he had married Padmé, and  that  their reunion had been brought about because of the assassination plot against her. He remembered how he and Obi-Wan had  visited a bar in Coruscant’s lower levels when they were hot on the trail of Padmé’s would-be assassin.  If Dadelanius had feuds, a bar would be a good place to find information on them. Anakin made a list of all the bars that wealthy residents of Coruscant were known to frequent and suddenly felt much brighter at the prospect of a stronger lead. 

H e had a list of five places, but he would have to visit them tomorrow night. Tonight he had  somewhere much more important to go and  something much more important  to do . 

Tonight he was going  home  to make up with his wife. 


	9. Chapter Eight: Love and Nightmares

**CHAPTER EIGHT:** **LOVE** **AND NIGHTMARES**

N ight fell on Galactic City,  quickly  draping it in a blanket of neon. The sun may have set but the lights of the city never faded.  Galactic City teemed with life all day, all night, and this evening was no exception. A  trillion  beings were going about their business, a  trillion lives changing their course every day. Nobody’s future was set in stone, especially not  here ,  on  the most vibrant,  populous planet in the galaxy. Anything could happen here.  Anything did. 

A lone figure dressed all in black made their way across the lanes of traffic, their  flashy  yellow speeder dashing past the slower vehicles with ease.  Anakin Skywalker landed  his  new  vehicle on the large, empty platform of  one of  the most expensive penthouse s in the city. Exiting swiftly  using the Force he  suddenly stopped,  his gloved hand  searching the deep pocket of  his dark robe for the small  and  precious leather pouch that was hidden inside.  Satisfied that  his  gift  for his wife  was still safe,  he headed inside.

The penthouse was empty but for once Anakin e mbraced this silence . It meant that there was still time. He  anticipated Padmé would not be home for several hours yet – even if she had not been upset at him  and trying to avoid his company , the Senate knew little of appropriate  working  hours. 

As Anakin had even less cooking experience than his wife, he smartly organised for C-3PO to pick up a few of his wife’s favourite dishes from a popular – and extravagant -  restaurant on Coruscant. He himself had purchased another bouquet of her favourite Nabooian dusk roses, hoping that they were not an omen for a repeat of their previous argument. At any rate they made a beautiful centrepiece in the middle of the long, formal dining table where the Skywalker’s incessantly chatty protocol droid was getting everything ready for the night’s meal, the light of the candles that covered nearly every surface in the room glinting off of his polished golden plating. Anakin supervised the droid carefully, making sure C-3PO got everything just so. This night was a gift for his wife. There was the dinner, the roses, the wine, the candles and one more gift, more precious than anything he had given Padmé before, but he would reveal it when the time was right.

Anakin enjoyed a long, meditative shower and changed out of his dark attire into a linen shirt and brown pants – something looser and more comfortable. He was starting to relax and, dare he say it, even feel _hopeful_. The constant ache that he had carried in his heart all week began to lessen at the thought of reconciling with his wife. He sent a communication to her asking her to meet him at home as soon as she could. She wrote back simply that she would try to finish her work as fast as possible, but nothing more. Her message was succinct and when Anakin reached out with the Force to gauge her mood, she was still upset. He knew this evening would probably not smooth over all of her misgivings towards his new job, but it would at least be a start. 

T hankfully,  Anakin did not have to wait too long for his wife’s return,  hearing the  familiar  sounds of her vehicle landing a short time after  seven. H e d ebated going to meet her but decided against it, wanting her to be fully surprised when she entered the dining room and saw how i t had been transformed .

Padmé moved through the apartment quickly, pausing only to remove her heavy black cloak and pass it to C-3PO as he greeted her at the door. “ Threepio, w here is Anakin? He told me to meet him as soon as possible.” 

C-3PO stopped in the hallway to answer his mistress before heading to the main bedroom to hang up her cloak. His  language  processors  were  fluent in so many  dialects but  he still did  not always understand the subtlety of human emotions,  this time  failing to register the harsh edge present in his mistress’ voice. 

“Mistress Padmé, you will find Master Anakin in the dining room. He has prepared something most delightful for you,” the droid chirped pleasantly before he trundled off down the hallway, oblivious to the waves of tension radiating off of the young woman he left behind him.

“I hope he hasn’t tried cooking something...” Padmé muttered to herself.

Pausing again a little way down the hallway, Padmé checked her appearance in an ornately-framed mirror hanging on the wall. An errant curl had escaped from the loose bun she wore today, and she smoothed it down while scrutinising her reflection closely. Her skin was paler than usual and her eyes had the beginnings of dark circles under them. Of course they did – what did she expect after a week of no sleep? A sigh of frustration escaped her. Not even cosmetics could hide her weariness - what she needed was a good night’s rest. However, for that to happen, she needed to reconcile with her husband. Padmé hoped that that was his intention for the evening, because she was more than eager to put this week behind them.

E ntering the dining room through the large  carved  double-doors that were the feature of the hallway’s end,  Padmé could not help but quicken her pace, curious to know what her husband had done that was so special . 

And then she stopped. And she looked. And she was amazed at what she saw.

The room was cast in a soft, golden glow from the many dozens of candles. Their deep floral scent, wisteria and jasmine from a far-off exotic world, filled the room, giving it the sense of someplace more natural, more alive, than this metropolis made of steel. The ornate furniture of the room cast long shadows in this dim light, causing the room to have a closer atmosphere than it usually had. The table was neatly set with the finest china and utensils she owned, and in the centre of the table was a large bowl of fresh blooming red roses. Her favourites. Her dark eyes took in the room slowly, taking in every detail. It all reminded her of the way the bedroom on Naboo had been the night she had been married. Every surface of that room had been filled with candles and flowers, the same types as the ones here tonight. The window had been open and the long white curtains had been pulled back to allow a view of the sky. The air that night had been warm, the atmosphere still, poised on the edge of rain. Her husband had carried her to the bed so gently in his arms, kissing her all the while. He had helped her undress, unsure of himself but savouring this precious moment, as piece-by-piece her veil and her dress were removed, and he was allowed to become more and more acquainted with her body. 

She knew he had been thinking of that night when he had planned this one.

“Ani...”

“Hello, Angel.” 

The first words they had spoken to each other all week hung in the air before them like a n awkward peace offering.  They took each other in as if they were seeing each other for the first time, strangers instead of lovers for two years.  There was a distance between them that had yet to be crossed and they stood apart, both unmoving, both unsure of what to say or  what to  do to take down th at final wall that had been keeping them  so  distanced. 

S o they stood there, still apart although they were so close,  the wall still between them . And they looked at each other, and then  they both  looked away, around at all the different, beautiful things in the room that was now so much like the one  from their wedding night. They both thought of that night, that ethereal dream they had both shared, where they had discovered each other and the truest form of love for the first time. It was the remembrance of that love that  finally  broke down th at wall and moved them towards each other, into each other’s arms and a n urgent kiss. 

T he tension melted away as the kiss deepened. Their ragged edges began to mend. 

They were together again, and everything would be okay.

It had to be.

Eventually the kiss ended, as all good things must. Padmé lay her head against her husband’s chest gratefully. He rubbed her back and they stood there together for a long time, wordlessly healing the week-long rift between them. That dark dragon that had been curled around Anakin’s heart all week, its flame flickering dangerously, slowly began to retreat. He didn’t need to worry, he assured himself. She was here in his arms. She was safe. It had only been a dream. Not all dreams came true, did they? The will of the Force was so often a mystery...

A fter a while Anakin released h is wife  from his arms and took her face  gently in his hands, inspecting the dark circles under her eyes with a frown  and a pang of guilt . “How are you?”

“I’m tired.”

“I am too, Padmé. It’s been a long week.” 

Padmé nodded. “It fe els like  it’s been  a month.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so truly sorry. I can’t even begin-”

Padmé cut him off with a simple: “I know.”

“No, Padmé, I need to say this to you. I need to apologize to you properly. You deserve it,” Anakin continued resolutely. His hands spanned her upper arms, holding her in place to witness his plea, his expression serious. “I… I was wrong. I know that. I let my anger get the better of me. I shouldn’t have done that. Not to _you,_ not _ever_ to you. You deserve better, and I need to _be_ better. I just want to be a good man for you, a husband you can be proud of. I just… I just feel so _lost_...”

His confession was so open and raw and honest that Padmé felt the prickle of tears beneath her lashes. Gone was the eternal confidence, the arrogance, even, that kept thoughts and feelings like these shielded from everyone, even her. Gone was the Jedi Knight, the Hero With No Fear, the Chosen One. Here right now, in front of her, baring his soul, was just a young man, the son of a slave, an orphan, a man who had had his destiny ripped right out from under him and who had been left to fall, nobody knowing where he would land. Here was Anakin Skywalker, who was flawed but who was also perfect. Who was her husband. Who was her dearest and her greatest love.

“Anakin,” Padmé murmured, soft and tender as a kiss. “You _are_ a good man. You are kind and you are strong and you will do anything for the ones you love. I will always be proud of you for that.”

“I hope you can understand why I took the job with the Chancellor,” Anakin said.

“I think I have an idea...”

“It makes me… I don’t know... It makes me feel a bit like _myself_ again. Like who I _was_. Who I’m _supposed_ to be. I know I can’t be a Jedi anymore but I can still be doing something good with my powers,” Anakin explained. His voice still carried the vulnerability of a child.

“I understand.” And she did. She understood that even though her husband was kind and strong and loving that he was also ambitious, and powerful, and that he would never be content with a life that did not let him use his great abilities. “I just hope that you will be safe.”

“Of course I will, Padmé. Nothing will happen to me, nobody can hurt me,” Anakin responded confidently, his shoulders squared and a smile on his face. The vulnerability of a few moments ago was gone and the Hero With No Fear had returned. 

“I don’t just mean physically, Anakin. I just… I hope you won’t ever have to do anything that will change that good heart of yours.” She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the strength of his heartbeat through the thin material of his shirt, almost as if she was trying to determine whether it still beat good and true.

Anakin’s met her gaze with the same intensity. “I promise you, Padmé, I will never do anything that you would not be proud of. I will only use my powers for good, like I did before. I just want to help people and keep them safe.” He suddenly thought of Free Voices, the terrorist group targeting senators. His jaw hardened at the thought of them ever being able to come anywhere near his wife. “I just want to keep _you_ safe.” 

Anakin’s noble intentions were clear in the blaze of his blue eyes. Padmé thought he was referring to the nightmare about her he had had the other week. In a comforting gesture she wrapped her arms around Anakin’s neck and he responded by encircling her waist with his own. “I love you, Anakin.” The words were whispered in his ear as she tightened her embrace.

A peaceful sense of quiet filled the room as the two of them stood together in the flickering candlelight. Now was the moment Anakin had been waiting for - the perfect moment to give Padmé his final gift. Anakin let go off his wife and took the small leather pouch from the pocket of his pants, where he had been keeping it after getting changed. Padmé watched with interest as Anakin opened the pouch and produced two simple golden rings.

Wedding rings.

Anakin spoke with a voice suddenly husky with emotion. “I want everyone in the galaxy to know how much I love you, to know that you are my wife, now that we longer have to hide it.”

He reached for her left hand, so small compared to his. Gently he slid the smaller of the golden bands onto the ring-finger of her left hand before bringing it to his lips. He kissed first the ring, then the back of her hand, then her palm, her wrist and then, slowly, a little way up her arm.

Anakin had been using the Force to hold the other ring in the air and now Padmé plucked it from where it hovered as if she were selecting a ripe fruit from a tree back home on Naboo. Gently, she placed it carefully on the ring-finger of his own left hand.

Then she was the one who initiated the kiss, and it was sweet at first, and then it was passionate.  The two lovers instantly burned for each other . Even though they hadn’t been physically separated this week there had been a  wide gulf between them – they might as well have been on separate worlds.  Now when Anakin reached out to feel his wife’s presence in the Force he felt only calmness, only her love for him. Only her desire. 

“Padmé, you’re so beautiful.”

“Only because I’m so in love.”

His blue eyes darkened, his face had need written across it. He held her and he kissed her, again and again, deeply and u rgently , until she melted from  the fire of  his touch.

Despite his actual physical hunger and the decadent smells of the meal ahead of them wafting in from the kitchen, Anakin was now consumed with nothing more than an absolute hunger for his wife. He used the Force to move any dining utensils out of the way before lifting her slender body up onto the table, all the while his lips never leaving her own. 

Padmé g roaned with desire as he moved her onto the table, her whole body thrilling at the anticipation of w hat was to come.  H er fingers brushed against Anakin’s erection, very prominent in the loose pants that he wore. The air fled from his lungs in a hiss as she began stroking it through the thin material of the  pants , and then she untied the simple knot at the top of them and pulled them down, exposing the thick, hard length of him to her.  She continued to stroke him, the pleasure now amplified a hundred-fold by the removal of any barrier between her hand and his skin. 

“Ughh, Angel… my Angel,” he groaned as she enhanced the pace of her strokes. It felt _so good_ but he didn’t want to finish like this, he wanted to finish inside of her, feeling her tightness all around him, loving the primitive feeling of having her invade every single one of his senses. 

H e stepped back away from her reach  before he lost all control . “Stand up,” he said quietly. “Turn around.”

Padmé did as she was requested, and Anakin set to work unbuttoning her elaborate senatorial gown. It took him longer than he would have liked – it always did, these dresses were so damn intricate – but eventually he unfastened enough buttons for the gown to slide from her shoulders and pool in a pile of thick purple fabric at her feet. She turned around, standing before him in her silk slip that showed off the curves of her slim body so much more than that gown ever could. He slid the straps of the slip down off of her shoulders and it joined the gown on the floor. Her bra came off next, lying on top of the other discarded clothing. Anakin spent some time kissing and caressing her small breasts, her heady moans hardening his cock even further until it was almost painful not to be inside her then and there. Finally, he gently pulled her underwear down off of her hips. Padmé stepped out of the pile of clothing and sat back down on the table, waiting, as her heartbeat sent the thrill of desire coursing through every part of her body. 

Anakin  quickly  removed his clothing  himself then took a moment to admire how utterly divine  Padmé  looked.  How could he ever need anything else than her? How could he have wasted a whole week without her conversation, without her laughter, without her touch?  Time like this had been precious during  when he  had been fighting in the  C lone  W ars. And if those dreams were to…  He was a fool.  Such a  _fool._ Then, as if he was a sinner kneeling before the retribution of his God, he was kneeling before her,  kissing her inner thigh softly, and then gently spread ing her legs further apart.  Padmé was already wet,  knowing what he was about to do, and  in an instant Anakin was there, his head between her legs, feasting on something far more satisfying than any of the dishes he could have eaten tonight  or any other night for the rest of his life . 

Padmé gasped,  she moaned, she cried out,  her body  was electrified, her hands  were  clench ed into fists as the sensations overwhelmed her.  And  Anakin simply kept devouring her,  over and over again,  until suddenly her legs tensed around his head and she saw stars, galaxies of stars,  whole  _universes,_ and  those stars coursed all the way through her body so she felt them in her toes and in her fingertips. 

Anakin felt her climax, tasted it on his lips, and nearly went mad with desire for her in anticipation of his own.  He stood, wiping her moisture from his mouth. 

Padmé sat up,  still a little dazed,  enjoying the aftershocks of such a strong sensation. She ran a hand through her loose curls  in an attempt to tame them .  The  new  ring on her finger caught the light. 

She then stood up to be near him again, not wanting to have even a little bit of distance between them anymore, rubbing his cock again as she kissed him. He groaned, unable to wait any longer, and in an instant he had her up against the wall, her slender legs straddling his waist and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her fingers tangled in his unruly hair, his aching cock finally deep inside her. 

And then he couldn’t get enough of her. She must be a drug, she was so intoxicating. Each deep thrust into her felt better than the last, each moan from her pouty lips turned him on more than the one that came before it. They both loved this position and tonight it felt better than ever. Anakin took his wife hard, and she panted in time with his quick, powerful thrusts. 

“You feel so _good_ ,” she gasped into his ear. “This feels _so good._ ” 

A nakin grunted in a greement ,  beyond words now,  taking her harder  still , her  sweaty  back sliding up and down the wall.  He buried himself in her over and over again, the pleasure beyond description. Every thrust erased another moment of silent pain from the past week.

Padmé kissed him as he took her, moaning  against his lips ,  her breath in his lungs, her body coiling like a spring, until suddenly,  suddenly, she came, quickly and deliciously and without warning, and he kept thrusting into her as she quivered around him,  quicker now,  until he came too, the sound of his roar  left  ringing in her ears.  The n, their fire spent for the time being, they simply held each other, panting, both covered in sweat  and feeling the warmth of their love on their skin.  They had never felt closer, never loved each other more than they had in this moment. 

Afterwards, the mood in the dining room had the pleasant tranquility of an evening by the lakes of Naboo, a time that seemed less far away now than it had before. Anakin dressed only in his pants, and, to ensure the evening retained this sense of peace, went to the kitchen to deactivate C-3PO, who had been waiting to serve the meals and pleasantly unaware of the rather loud reconciliation happening in the dining room. Anakin retrieved the dinner that the protocol droid had been fussing over: steak, sauteed green vegetables, fresh bread and red wine. He brought all of the dishes into the dininig room at once using the Force and carefully arranged them on the table in front of his wife. Padmé smiled when she saw that her husband had taken care to order what was not only her favourite meal but the one they had shared on their wedding night. She had dressed now in her underwear and her husband’s shirt. The thin linen skimmed the top of her thighs.

“This looks divine.”

Anakin  smiled as he served up two plates and then filled two of Padmé’s expensive Nabooian crystal wine glasses with the earthy-smelling wine.  Padmé breathed in its rich  aroma before taking a long, satisfying drink.

T hey ate in companionable silence,  finishing their dinner quickly as they were both famished.  After the meal Anakin cleared the table and then returned to the dining room with another bottle of the expensive red wine.

“Thank you for tonight,” said Padmé softly as she watched Anakin fill their glasses again. “It reminds me of our wedding night.”

“That was the idea. Although,” Anakin added with a roguish grin, “we definitely didn’t have that level of confidence with each other that night...”

Padmé laughed, indulging in her husband’s bawdiness. “Yes, t onight we definitely engaged in some  _very_ aggressive negotiations.” 

Anakin’s deep laugh joined her own, and he took a long drink from his glass.  He swallowed and then turned to his wife with a more serious expression. “I want you to know how serious I am about everything I said before, Padmé. I love you, and I will not fail you.”

Padmé brushed the messy curls from his forehead, still wet with the sweat of their lovemaking, before she answered him. “I know, Anakin. As long as you are true to yourself you will be true to me. As long as we are open and honest with each other we can weather any storm.”

The couple shared another kiss and finished the last of their wine.  With the meal finished,  Anakin carried Padmé to bed as he had done on their first night together, and so many nights since. Padmé felt the headiness of wine and the sleepiness of a late night. Then, when Anakin lay her down on the  big  bed and began to undress her, so slowly and  so  tenderly like he had the first time, she felt nothing but the warmth of love.

OOOOO

“Anakin, help me! Help me, _please!_ ”

Those words. That voice. And then the _scream_. The awful, torturous scream, cut off suddenly with a flash of purple, and with it, his reason for being. She was gone, and she would never, _could_ never, come back.

The Dark Side surrounded him completely, and he gave in to it, embraced it, let it fill every essence of his being with sickening hatred. That dark dragon inside of him was finally sated with the blood-lust it had craved for so long but which it had been constantly denied.

But no more.

No more would Anakin Skywalker deny his inner nature, his inner strength. Never again would he deny his absolute power. He was the Chosen One. He was the one they all should fear.

He would get revenge for everything and everyone that had been taken from him, and it would be glorious. Simply glorious.

But then he woke up.

N o longer did he feel the hatred, the suffering, the intoxicating lust for revenge. No longer did he feel the insatiable call of the Dark Side. He wasn’t there,  wherever _ there _ was, he was here, in his bed, in his home, and,  _ thank the Force _ , his wife was still asleep beside him. Her  presence radiated strong and clear through the Force.

Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, and then the cold sweat from his face. He felt utterly, utterly sick. Once again he had felt the Dark Side in his very soul and it disgusted him. This nightmare had been the worst one yet. And if they kept coming, just like they had with his mother, he knew the outcome would be the same. Unless he did something to stop it.

Too spent from the nightmare to remain sitting up,  Anakin lay down next to  Padmé again, wrapping an arm around her naked waist and drawing her closer to his own bare skin.  He tried to calm his breathing by focusing on his wife’s slow and steady breaths and on the comfort that the strength of their connection in the Force brought.

W ith each constant breath Anakin chanted inwardly the same mantra: she will be alright. She will be alright. She will be alright.

It wasn’t enough, though, and he knew it, he couldn’t keep trying to hide it. It hadn’t been enough for his mother, and it wasn’t enough now. Yes, Padmé was alright now, but for how long? And how long would he be able to ignore the allure of that great dark dragon inside if she wasn’t? He couldn’t simply _will_ someone to not die, as much as he could try. He had to _do something_ , but he didn’t know what.

Unable to deal with these thoughts, feeling helpless and alone, Anakin rolled roughly onto his back, staring up at the ceiling but seeing nothing. The movement was enough to wake Padmé, and she rolled over onto her right side so she could look at her husband with sleepy eyes.

“Anakin? Are you alright?”

Anakin  swallowed before answering, his throat so dry he nearly coughed.  His voice was rough when he spoke. “ Another dream.”

Padmé placed a reassuring hand on her husband’s chest. “The same as before?”

“Worse. This time I gave in...”

“Gave in to what?”

“The Dark Side.” Anakin groaned, the sound a complete understatement of the turmoil he felt in his heart right now. 

Padmé studied him in the dim light afforded by the gaps in the window blinds. He looked as vulnerable as he had before. She wondered then how much it cost him to keep this vulnerability hidden from everyone except her. To every  other being in the galaxy  Anakin Skywalker was the Hero With No Fear, but that moniker was also a prison. It was not that he had no fear, more that he was not allowed to show it.  The galaxy needed its dashing poster boy for the war effort.  How would the Republic armies keep getting support if anyone knew that one of their greatest generals still cried over the death of his mother?

“It will be alright,” she said soothingly. She knew her words meant nothing right now, and that in all likelihood they would be proven false. But what else was she supposed to do? If he knew that she was scared, that she thought there was a chance of these nightmares becoming reality, then she knew he would lose all reason like he had with his mother. 

“I don’t know what to do, Padmé. If these dreams are the same as the ones that showed my mother’s death, I don’t know how to stop them!” Anakin replied desperately. 

Padmé was silent, unsure how to answer.  The only solution she could think of was one that her husband would not like. “You could talk to Obi-Wan?”

H er suggestion was met with a snort of contempt. “He didn’t help me then, Padmé, and he won’t help me now.  He won’t know what to do.”

Padmé pursed her lips but said nothing more on the matter. This wasn’t the right time. Later, when Anakin had calmed down, she would broach the subject of Obi-Wan’s help again. However, she decided then and there that if Anakin would not relinquish his pride and seek help from an old friend, then she would have to be the one who reached out. 

Besides, this wasn’t the only thing worrying her about him. And although she tried to bury the feeling, she was worried for herself. Anakin’s dreams about his mother had been prophetic. What if these were too?

OOOOO

A little ways across Coruscant, in the grand, ancient Jedi temple, three great Jedi’s eyes opened in alarm, all at the same time.

Yoda, Ahsoka Tano and Obi-Wan Kenobi all recoiled at the hideous strength of the Dark Side that they simultaneously felt in their shared Force visions. Their bodies tensed, an involuntary reaction against the darkness, preparing themselves for a fight that seemed sure to come.

It was the same for all three of them – they had heard the same scream, they had seen again that strange flash of purple, they had known again that same foreboding sense of the Dark Side. And they had all felt the same thing, the worst they had ever felt it.

Pain.

Immense, unbelievable, immeasurable pain.

But it was not their own pain they had felt, no. It was _his_ pain. Anakin Skywalker’s pain. He had been in the worst agony he had ever experienced in his entire existence, and he had been absolutely unhinged because of it. In that dream there was no telling what he would do, no level he would not sink to rid himself of the pain that had been erasing everything good in him and replacing it with cold darkness.

All three Jedi woke from the terrible, terrible dream covered in a fine sweat and with a sick pit in their stomachs. The fears of the Jedi had been realised – the Dark Side was definitely growing stronger, right under their noses. But of course it was – Maul was still out there, Dooku was still out there. Despite seemingly constant confrontations with these Sith, the Jedi had not achieved anything. The Dark Side was still an omnipresent thorn in their side. 

Yoda, ever the calm and resolute leader, kept these concerns to himself. He was undeniably shaken by this vision but knew he should seek his answers in the Force.

This was not the path that Ahsoka and Obi-Wan took, however, and within five minutes Yoda found his meditation interrupted by the loud sound of t he two of them  furiously knocking on his chamber door. 

Of course they would be here. Had he really expected anything else?

Using the Force to unlock the door and admit his two late-night guests, Yoda rose slowly from his small bed and went to his hover-chair. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka entered the small room with a frantic air about them and then stood before the wise Master, both poised to speak at the same time.

“Visions, you have been having.” It was not a question, it was a statement of fact by the old Master. “Disturbed by them, you are.”

“Yes, you are right! Master Yoda, forgive our intrusions, but we have both had a most concerning vision involving Anakin and Senator Amidala,” Obi-Wan hurried to explain. His normally cool and collected visage was visibly pale.

“Understand this, I do. The same vision I have had,” Yoda replied. He faced the two younger Jedi with a grave expression. “Very troubling these visions are. Experienced the Dark Side of the Force, we have.”

“What do you think the vision means, Master Yoda?” Ahsoka asked quietly. She was exhausted, having never had such a strong Force vision before. It had left her absolutely spent and very, very worried.

“Unsure of the meaning, I am. Hard to decipher, Force visions can be. Know this, both of you do.”

“But what about Anakin? In this vision he… he _fell_ ,” Obi-Wan could barely form the words. “And Padmé, she… _died_. Surely, Master, there must be something we can do?”

“Mmmm,” Yoda began thoughtfully. “Very clouded, Skywalker’s future is. Watch him closely, the Order must.”

“But surely he won’t turn? Not Anakin!” Ahsoka interjected, needled by Yoda’s apparent belief that her former Master could ever even entertain the notion of embracing the evil that seemed to worsen with each passing day.

“A good heart, your old Master has. Clear that you care about him still, it is. However, remember the Order’s teachings about attachment, you must. To let go of what you fear to lose, that is the Jedi way. Unable to do this, Skywalker is. Sense great fear in him I do. Fear of loss. Fear of obscurity, also.”

“Master Yoda, Anakin would not turn his back on the Jedi’s teachings. I know him! I trained him since he was a boy!” Obi-Wan said plaintively.

Yoda looked from Obi-Wan to Ahsoka with  knowing eyes that had seen the events of  over ten human lifespans. He had lived through times of peace, and he had lived through times of war. He had seen many strong Jedi cut down in their prime, and many more join the Force as beings old and wise like him. He had seen thousands of Padawans Knighted, and hundreds of Knights become Masters. He had also seen Jedi turn their back on the Order and, worse still, betray it.  He had known of the prophecy of the Chosen One for more years than he could count, and had always been waiting, wondering, to see if it would be fulfilled. When Qui-Gon Jinn had presented a timid little boy of nearly ten years old to the Jedi Council and proclaimed that this child was the one they had been looking for, this child was the Chosen One, Yoda had been reticent to believe it. He had sensed an overwhelming fear in Anakin Skywalker that day and, despite the child growing into a man whose control of the Force was beyond comprehension, that fear had never truly left him. The Jedi Order had tried and failed to curb Anakin’s desire for attachments and his desperate fear to lose them, and Yoda had always felt that Anakin’s attachments would be his downfall. He had always been concerned of how far Anakin would go to avoid losing the ones he loved, and what he would do if he did lose them. Chosen One or not, such an immense amount of power produced a dangerous undercurrent in the young man, and Yoda wondered how far below the surface it really ran. 

“Denied the teachings of the Jedi Skywalker already has. Take a wife, he did. Fear of losing her, he has, and into dark places, that fear may take him. Be wary of this Vision, we must.”

“You’re wrong!” Obi-Wan declared passionately. “Forgive me, Master Yoda, but you’re wrong about Anakin. He will not forsake what is right! I know this!”

“Difficult to determine, Force visions are, Master Kenobi. To the Dark Side, Skywalker’s path may not lead. However, cautious of Skywalker’s power, we must all be,” Yoda replied calmly.

“It was you and the Council who turned your back on him, not I,” Obi-Wan said cuttingly. “If you are afraid of what he will do with his abilities, that must remain on your consciences, not mine.” 

“Look, we’ll find out what the Vision means,” Ahsoka asserted, gesturing at both older Jedi inclusively. “I know there’s more to it than we think.” 

Yoda sighed. He knew there was nothing he could do to dissuade Obi-Wan and Ahsoka from seeking out Anakin and nothing he could say to make them understand the former Jedi’s potential danger. They would go there seeking a friend, and he had a feeling they would be disappointed.

“Hope you are right, I do. But be mindful of your feelings, you must. Past loyalties, changed, they may have,” he replied.

“Master Yoda, I know things ended poorly between Anakin and myself, but I cannot stand by and do nothing. Especially if anyone’s life is in danger. It is not the Jedi way,” Obi-Wan told Yoda. There was an energy in his posture that had not been there a few moments before.

Yoda nodded. “Support your decision, I do. Speak with the Skywalkers you will. But report back to the Council you must,” he instructed gruffly.

“Thank you, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan said simply, bowing before exiting the room.

Ahsoka hesitated in the open doorway. “There’s more to this than you think, y’know,” she told Yoda.

The ancient Master chose to ignore the note of provocation in the young Togruta’s voice. He hoped that she was right.

Returning to his meditations, Yoda searched through the waves of the Force as they travelled past him, unaware of any particular meaning in them. He let go of the hint of frustration he had felt during his conversation with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. The feeling blew away from him like a leaf on the wind. He searched the Force, embraced it, let it completely consume him. He focused on the Force vision from earlier, tried to play it back in his mind second-by-second. He asked the Force for an answer to what the vision meant, and then he waited. He breathed slowly, he maintained his focus, knowing that the Force would give him an answer when it was ready. He was peace, he was serenity, and then-

“STOP YOUR FUTILE SEARCH FOR ANSWERS. WHAT IS TO COME IS TO COME. IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN THIS WAY. IT WILL ALWAYS BE THIS WAY. THERE IS NO WAY TO CHANGE FATE.”

The disembodied voice struck Yoda as if he had been assaulted by a heavy weapon. He had no knowledge of who was speaking to him, only that they were neither Jedi nor Sith. They were a dark Force user, however, and the waves of hatred radiating from their Force signature filled Yoda with physical pain.

Yoda tried to respond, wanting to ask who this voice belonged to and what their message meant, but he found he could not speak. He realised he could not even move. He tried desperately to shout out to the voice, struggling against his sudden and strange constriction, but before he could, the voice shouted at him again, and Yoda sunk into a black nothingness.

“SKYWALKER WILL FULFIL HIS DESTINY. IT IS THE WILL OF THE FORCE, AND I WILL MAKE SURE OF IT. HIS FATE IS SEALED.”


	10. Chapter Nine: Searching For Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and favourited the story so far, as I have said before, it means a lot to me! As always, let me know if you have any suggestions for the story or improvements I could make. I really do appreciate constructive feedback :)
> 
> I'm sorry for the confusion with the chapters! I accidentally posted chapter 8 again as chapter 9 and had some trouble getting the correct chapter to show up again, so I just deleted both chapters and reposted them. Sorry if it made anything confusing and extra sorry if it deleted any of your wonderful comments :(
> 
> Oh! And I also changed my username from affertasmontae to brightestorangedawn because I felt like a change. Sorry if there's any confusion about that as well!

**C** **HAPTER NINE: S** **EARCHING FOR ANSWERS**

Yoda woke alone in his chamber. He was lying on the floor and did not know how many hours had passed since he had ended up there. Turning his head slowly he was able to see out of the small transparisteel window of the chamber and noted that the amber glow of the morning sun meant he had been like this all night. Perhaps that was why his body hurt so much.

He got to his feet awkwardly, grunting with both the effort and the pain it caused, and summoned his walking cane with the Force. Every muscle in his body felt like he had been attacked by a hundred assailants at once. His recollection of the previous night was foggy – he remembered the vision, he remembered the conversation with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, but the rest was an intangible mess of sounds and sensations. Someone - or something - had been shouting. They spoke of Skywalker, they spoke of fate. The voice had been so loud it had seemed to fill the entire room and echo off the walls.

Skywalker.

Fate.

Yoda frowned with the effort of trying to remember something that felt like it had happened a millennia ago. Skywalker. Fate. What did they mean? What was Skywalker’s fate?

And suddenly Yoda remembered it all. He remembered the voice: tinny, serpentine. The cold malevolence of its presence, filling him with pain.

Skywalker’s fate was to fall, the voice had assured him. Whoever that voice belonged to was going to ensure that Skywalker did go to the Dark Side.

Yoda leapt to his hover chair, the Force suddenly making him spry. He was already on his comm-link, calling an urgent Council meeting.

If the vision had been a warning of what _may_ come to pass, this voice was an _assurance_ of it. Anakin Skywalker was in danger, grave danger. And because of that, so were they all.

OOOOO

Obi-Wan had only been to Padmé Amidala’s apartment one time before. It had been two years ago, when she had been threatened by an assassin and he and Anakin (who had still been his Padawan at the time)had come to discuss the matter and provide surveillance for her at night. The Jedi Master felt the same awe at the absolute opulence of the place as he had the first time he had been there. He could not imagine living in such a large, beautiful space and thinking it to be commonplace, as Padmé did. His own personal quarters at the Jedi Temple were as stark as every other being’s there, and although that was for a good reason clearly outlined by the Code, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to live here every day. He gave a sly glance at Ahsoka, who had never been here before at all, and noticed her eyes go round as she walked into the expansive living room. He smiled wryly.

“Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, it’s so wonderful to see you!” Padmé greeted them both enthusiastically. In a deep maroon dress trimmed with gold thread and her long hair in a simple braid, she was as beautiful as ever, but it was obvious that she was a little frayed around the edges. When she reached out to hug them both, Obi-Wan noticed she was also now wearing a golden wedding band. He did not comment on it.

“Padmé, I hope that you are well,” Obi-Wan replied to his old friend. “We parted ways under such difficult circumstances, and I am afraid that it is difficult circumstances that reunite us. Thank you for reaching out to me – I was intending on doing the same to you. We have much to discuss.”

Padmé nodded and did her best to maintain her bright smile. “Come and sit down. Threepio will bring us refreshments.”

The two Jedi followed their host to the two yellow sofas in the centre of the room. They sat across from Padmé and the three of them all waited until C-3PO had deposited a tray of drinks before speaking.

“Anakin isn’t here,” Padmé began, addressing the matter that had been on the minds of both Jedi but remained unspoken. “I know that you wanted to speak to him, Obi-Wan, but he did not wish to meet with you. I could not convince him to stay.”

“How… how is he?” Ahsoka asked, almost timidly. Although she would never admit it to Obi-Wan, she had been looking forward to seeing her former Master again. She had been worrying about him, even more so since the vision from last night.

“He is… conflicted,” Padmé replied. She took a sip of her drink before continuing. “He is upset about being forced to leave the Jedi Order. He has told me some of how he feels but I’m worried that there is more he is hiding from me.”

Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure if he felt relief or disappointment at Anakin’s absence, especially considering how they had parted.

“I wish there was more that I could do, Padmé. I’ve tried speaking to the Council, but they will not make any concessions. Not unless Anakin leaves you,” he said, looking again at the wedding band on her left hand.

Padmé followed his gaze and folded her hands in her lap, covering the ring. There was a short silence while the two Jedi drank from the tall glasses in front of them and Padmé watched them, thinking about what she wanted to say next.

“Anakin is having dreams as well. Dreams like the ones he used to have about his mother. Only this time, they are about me.” She paused, gauging their reactions before continuing. They both appeared unsurprised. “That is the main reason I contacted you. Anakin won’t ask you for help, Obi-Wan, because he thinks you won’t listen - but I know you wouldn’t just abandon him.”

“Well, that’s why I was going to contact you, Padmé. Other Jedi have been experiencing those same dreams. Master Yoda, Ahsoka and myself. They all seem to be the same dreams as well,” Obi-Wan explained gravely. 

“Why are so many Jedi having the same dream?” Padmé asked. “Is it serious?”

“We don’t know yet. That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Ahsoka rejoined.

“Are you worried, Padmé? About the dreams?” Obi-Wan asked gently. He studied her carefully for any outward signs of distress at his question and found none. She was an incredibly strong woman. 

“Only a little, at first,” Padmé began. She paused to take another long drink. When she continued Obi-Wan saw the mask of strength begin to slip. “But... then Anakin had another dream last night – the same one that you all had. He said this one was worse than the one before. He told me he… he gave in… to the Dark Side.” She couldn’t keep the concern out of her voice at that last part.

“The vision certainly is troubling,” Obi-Wan conceded. He thought his words sounded foolish as he said them. They were such an understatement.

“Have _you_ … ever felt the Dark Side in those dreams? Like Anakin has?” Padmé asked slowly.

“Yes, I felt it, but in a different kind of way – the main thing I felt during the dream was pain. Not my own pain, though, somebody else’s.” 

“Whose?” Padmé asked quickly.

“Anakin’s.” 

Padmé looked away, her face nothing but concern for her husband. Her guard was down and they could both feel traces of the strength of her love for Anakin in the Force surrounding her. 

“Do you know why he was in pain? What happened to him in the dream?” Padmé questioned.

“No. None of us saw him in the dream, we only felt his presence and his pain. The only person we saw was you, Padmé, calling out for his help,” Obi-Wan told her. 

The young woman nodded. She had heard this part before.  She could still see her husband’s panic-stri c ken face from the night before.  Her slender fingers toyed with the ring on her finger  and h er face was still full of  distress.

“We came because we were worried, Padmé. About you and about Anakin. Nothing like this has ever happened before – so many Jedi having the exact same visions,” Obi-Wan explained. “We need to know if there is anything else important that has happened – anything that might help us work out how and why we are all experiencing the same thing.” 

Padmé shrugged, not a dismissive gesture but a response to the fact that there was so much brewing under the surface in Anakin right now –  where should she begin? “He’s suffering, Obi-Wan. I’m so worried about him. He’s…  he’s working for the Chancellor now.” 

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka exchanged looks of  unease . 

“Chancellor Palpatine?” Obi-Wan could not believe it.

“Yes. Anakin is the head of his security detail. His job is to sort out any problems threatening the Chancellor or the Senate that are too difficult for anyone else.” 

“And how do you feel about this, if you don’t mind me asking?” pried Obi-Wan.

Padmé took another delicate sip of her drink. “I don’t trust the Chancellor,” she said simply.

O bi-Wan nodded. “With that you may be wise, Padmé.  I  share your sentiments.  Have you communicated your feelings to Anakin?” 

Padmé sighed. “I did, and he did not take it very well.”

“This is concerning news, Padmé. It must be brought to the attention of the Jedi Council,” Obi-Wan said.

Anger replaced the concern on Padmé’s face. “Why? Why does the Council need to know what Anakin is doing? He’s not a Jedi anymore. Can they not simply leave him alone? I wanted your help, not theirs!”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Padmé, I do not mean to offend you,  b ut the Council cannot remain uninformed about this matter. Anakin may not be one of our rank anymore, but he is still a Force user, and a  very powerful one at that.  If there is any possibility that Anakin could be led astray – even the  _smallest_ one,” Obi-Wan added, seeing the fire that had been lit in Padmé’s eyes by his words, “that is important for the Council to know.  This may be related to the visions we have been experiencing.” 

“I… I understand,” Padmé conceded, the ferocity of her glare dimming. “But Obi-Wan, he’s a good person. You know that. He’s just… _lost_. That’s why he’s working for the Chancellor, because he’s trying to find an identity for himself again.”

O bi-Wan nodded. He felt a breadth of emotion at the thought of his friend’s distress but had never been taught the words to express it. What he answered Padmé with seemed ineffectual and simplistic, and he worried that he came across as uncaring. “I know Anakin would have taken being dismissed from the Order very difficulty.”

Padmé looked at him, her dark brown eyes seeming to see beyond his words, at the feeling he wanted to express but did not know how. He felt that she understood, and he felt comforted by that knowledge.

“You don’t think Anakin would be doing anything _bad_ , do you?” Ahsoka continued the conversation. The young Padawan was still struggling to process that her Master – former Master – would be working with anyone as overtly insidious as the Chancellor. 

“I don’t think he would _intentionally_ do anything bad. He couldn’t – he’s not like that. I’m just… I’m just worried that over time Palpatine would be able to convince Anakin that some of the bad things he wanted him to do were not really bad – that he was acting in the best interests of the Republic. That he was keeping people safe. The Chancellor has such a hold over him,” Padmé replied sadly.

O bi-Wan reached out to touch his friend’s hand. “Anakin’s future is clouded at the moment, Padmé,”  he said, echoing Yoda’s words from the previous night. “However, I know that he i s pure of heart . With you at his side I do not believe he will lose his way.” 

Padmé offered him a small smile. “You should talk to him. You both should. I think that would help him a lot.”

“If Anakin did not wish to see us today, I think it best that he seeks us out when he is ready. He needs time to work through all that has happened,” Obi-Wan responded wisely. He stood up to leave and Ahsoka followed. “Thank you for hosting us, Padmé. And thank you for letting us know about Anakin’s work with the Chancellor.” 

“I just hope that you can find out what these dreams mean before it’s too late,” Padmé replied softly. “Please let me know if you find out any more about them.” 

“We will continue to investigate what they mean and the source of them,” Obi-wan said. 

Padmé escorted her guests to the turbolift that would take them down and out of the apartment complex. She paused in the doorway before saying goodbye, and she turned to Obi-Wan, suddenly beseeching. “Please don’t let anything happen to him, Obi-Wan. If he was to… if the Chancellor  ever mad e him… do things that were  _wrong_ … please help him.”

Obi-Wan placed a comforting hand on Padmé’s shoulder.  He could sense her distress in the Force. He wished he could do more for her, more for his best friend. However, all that he could leave her with was a promise. A promise that he would uphold no matter what.

“I promise I will always help Anakin if he needs it, Padmé. Despite all that has happened, he still is, and always will be, a brother to me.”

  
  


OOOOO

  
  


Anakin entered The Door to the Afterlife through large automatic doors that, even if they were not admitting him to the real afterlife, had landed him in a very good approximation of it.  Anakin had, admittedly, not been in many nightclubs in his life, but of the few he had visited, this one was certainly the largest and the most uniquely designed. It was split over two levels, with the entrance and main dance floor on the first level and booths for patrons to sit and converse in on the second level, which was accessible mainly by several curved glass staircases and was like a mezzanine which provided patrons with a balcony view of the dancers below. Most of the club was constructed with darkly coloured materials or glass, creating a shadowy atmosphere that was punctuated only by the lights of the dance floor. The main bar was situated on an expansive platform that was able to move up and down between these two levels. In the centre of the platform was a large illuminated column that changed colour with the rest of the lights of the nightclub, providing a neon backdrop to the shelves and shelves of alcohol that surrounded it in a ring. The bar itself orbited this column in a large circle, providing easy access for those wishing to imbibe in any and all forms of alcohol the galaxy had to offer.  The music of the  night club was a pulse that Anakin could feel throughout his entire body. A ll lights were dimmed except for intermittent flashes of red and blue whenever the music reached a particularly powerful crescendo and all the dancers  dropped dramatically to the floor. The  night club was full tonight, absolutely swarming with all manner of beings. Anakin could feel that the general mood of the crowd was one of wantonness – everyone here just wanted to get loose and have a good time.  It certainly felt like a place that existed beyond the rigidity of reality. 

Many beings, not just female, appraised him as he cut through the groups standing around the dance floor and made his way towards the bar. Anakin ignored them completely, although many of them were broadcasting their lust so powerfully in their thoughts that it may as well have been verbal.  He made a point of moving his left hand so the gold wedding band he wore flashed clearly in the pulsing lights, but this did nothing to temper their clearly indecent intentions. 

Dressed in civilian clothes  of muted tones , his darksaber attached securely to his belt  but concealed under his  sweeping robe,  Anakin  hoped nobody would recognise who he was before they needed to.  He  reached the bar, finding a place between an older man in shockingly crimson attire and a younger woman with her hair piled into an intricate design on her head. They both stared at  him as he waited for someone at the bar to serve him, trying to decide whether or not they really were standing face-to-face with the Hero With No Fear. Anakin sensed their confusion and with a subtle wave of his hand clouded the  atmosphere around him further, so they both gave up wondering and  simply  returned to their drinks.

The bar was staffed by around thirty or so different beings – humans, rhodians, twi’leks and others. They all rapidly fired through orders, making drinks with the skill of one who is a master of their craft. Despite the large amount of beings at the bar, Anakin was promptly served by an attractive twi’lek female dressed in black pants and a sparkling cropped top. Eyeing him with a flirtatious stare, Anakin quickly deduced the reason for her speedy service. He met her enticing gaze with a cold one of his own – he was interested in none but his wife.

“My name is Aehew. What can I offer you tonight?” the twi’lek asked, and Anakin sensed the double meaning in her words. 

“I’m not interested in a drink, I’m interested in a man,” he replied. “Amoor Dadelanius. Does he frequent this club?”

The older man in crimson and the younger woman with the elaborate hairdo turned to look at him. Anakin scowled at them. “This business doesn’t concern you. Go back to your drinks.”

Aehew raised an eyebrow  at him . “ Who’s asking?”

“That doesn’t matter. Can you tell me if Dadelanius is here tonight?” 

Aehew laughed drily and shook her head. He r purple lekku moved with the gesture. “Look, man, I’m not just going to go around giv ing out information about guests to anyone who asks, o kay?  We value privacy here, s o forget about it. ”

“This is important,” Anakin pressed.

“So important you can’t even tell me who you are?” Aehew replied dismissively. 

“I work for the Chancellor,” Anakin offered begrudgingly. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the man and woman sitting near him trying to subtly follow his conversation. He shot them another pointed glare and they swiftly looked away, sensing that they were angering someone who they probably did not want to deal with.

Aehew looked him up and down  sharply . “You don’t look like someone who works for the Chancellor,” she told him. “Besides, if  Chancellor Palpatine really had a problem he’d just send in some guards or what-not and deal with it himself.  You’re not even wearing a uniform. ”

“This is a problem the Chancellor does not want to draw attention to,” Anakin explained in a low voice. “If you know anything about Amoor Dadelanius, you have to tell me!”

Anakin could feel his agitation begin to simmer below the surface. What was he supposed to do if he couldn’t get a lead? Go back and tell the Chancellor he had failed already, that he had no idea where Dadelanius was and could get nobody to help him find the man? He would be dismissed immediately. He would be a joke. As the agitation threatened to boil over into anger, that dark dragon inside him began to stir, telling him that he was better than this, more powerful than this, that he had ways to get the information from the twi’lek. 

“I don’t have to do anything,” said Aehew curtly. “And don’t bother annoying any of the other staff, they won’t help you either.” She then turned away and began to wipe the counter behind her.

It was like time stood still as Anakin listened to that dark dragon, considered what it had to say. Agreed with it. Knew what he had to do next.

Checking around him to ensure that the other beings in the immediate area were occupied, A nakin  turned back to Aehew, who was still cleaning the counter.

“Aehew,” he began, and his voice now carried a tone that could not be ignored, his every command suddenly irresistible to the intended listener. 

T he twi’lek immediately turned to face him, cleaning rag still in her hand.  Her expression was blank. 

“I need to know if Amoor Dadelanius is here tonight in this nightclub. As I have said, it is very important. You _will_ tell me anything you know about him,” Anakin told her, his voice still dripping with that irresistible, otherworldly command. His hand passed briefly in front of her face. 

“I will tell you anything I know about him...” Aehew repeated quietly. “Amoor Dadelanius… he comes here at the end of every standard week. He always brings a large group with him and spends many hundreds of credits on drinks.”

“Is he here tonight?” Anakin demanded. “You _will_ tell me if Dadelanius is here tonight.”

“Y-yes, he is here tonight,” Aehew responded. She was struggling against the mind trick, and Anakin knew she would break free from it any second. She had a tenacity about her that he had to admire – she was not as weak-minded as he initially assumed. 

“Where is he?” Anakin asked quickly.

Aehew grimaced. She had control of herself enough now to not respond initially.

“ _Where is he_? You _will_ tell me where he is,” Anakin demanded, forcefully enough that Aehew could now not ignore his question. Again, his hand passed quickly through the air in front of her, the air seeming suddenly colder as he willed her to submit to his questioning. 

“On the second level. In a booth. He… he will not be alone.”

Anakin’s hand returned to the pocket of his robe. The mind-trick was over. Aehew staggered, but nobody noticed as the fog of confusion Anakin had caused to mask the mind trick had not yet completely dissipated.

And  then  the dragon was gone, leaving only Anakin Skywalker again, who felt  some  r emorse at what he had done.  He studied the twi’lek carefully, probing with the Force to ensure he had not hurt her in any way. She seemed alright, just tired.

Anakin passed a silver carafe from behind the bar to Aehew. “Drink some water. It will make you feel better.”  His voice was gentle now. 

Aehew said nothing, simply stared at him, but did what he suggested  and took a long drink from the carafe . 

“I’m sorry I had to do that,” Anakin said, and he retreated again through the crowd and onto the second level of the nightclub where the bar was now situated, having ascended during their conversation.

The second level of the establishment provided a more intimate atmosphere than the first.  The space was mainly consumed with around twenty secluded booths. Each booth was surrounded by a mid-height wall that provided some privacy from the beings in the n eighbouring booths. The booths were furnished with a comfortable leather wrap-around sofa and a low glass table in the centre. Each booth was lit with what appeared to be glowing bubbles floating in midair. In reality they were finely-blown glass baubles suspended with very thin wires, so thin that they were invisible to the untrained eye. 

Anakin passed by several of the booths without finding who he was looking for. The first booth housed what appeared to be some sort of pre-wedding celebration party – seven human women were eagerly chanting as an eighth woman, wearing a gaudy veil, drank steadily from a bottle of unfamiliar off-world spirits. The second and third booths contained couples passionately e xploring each other’s bodies. 

As Anakin passed by the third booth and stoicly ignored what its occupants were getting up to, he heard a male voice shouting loudly from a few booths away.

“If you don’t honour our agreement, Harckonen, you’ll pay the price!”

“What agreement, Dadelanius? We have nothing in writing, therefore we have no agreement!” answered an equally loud male voice.

Dadelanius! Just who he had been looking for.

Anakin stopped, reaching out with the Force to sense the atmosphere of the booth where the argument was taking place. He felt the presence of five beings. Two were incredibly angry with each other and the three others had a more neutral, but wary, opinion of the situation – they were likely guards that Dadelanius and Harckonen had brought with them. One of the men was outmatched, however – two against three. Anakin wondered which of them had the upper hand. He moved closer to listen to more of the conversation, but kept himself hidden from their view. Anakin remembered that Dadelanius was known for his many enemies – this Harckonen seemed to be another being that Dadelanius had unwisely gotten on the wrong side of.

“If there is nothing in writing to signify our deal, that is down to your treachery, Harckonen. I know for a fact that my man Salis presented a contract to you which you did sign. If that contract is now missing it is no fault of mine! The deal stands and you must uphold your end of it!” said the voice that must belong to Dadelanius. Anakin noted a hint of desperation muddying the clarity of the man’s voice.

“And why should I uphold a deal for which there is no contract?” Harckonen replied in a wily tone.

“Because, if you do not, you will pay with your life, and I will collect what you owe me from your corpse before it cools!” exclaimed Dadelanius, his tone much more assured now.

It was at that moment, as the two men and their guards all pulled blasters on each other like some sort of stick-up from the Outer Rim, that Anakin quickly stepped into their view, the billow of his robe settling dramatically behind him.

Four men, including Dadelanius, turned to face him, visibly surprised at the sudden intrusion. Harckonen, however, took the distraction as an opportunity, and fired a blaster bolt at Dadelanius.

With no more than the slightest movement  of his gloved hand Anakin stopped the bolt in midair.  I t hung there in front of them, mesmerising the men, and then Anakin  sent it flying to the floor  as if it were no more than an annoying insect , where it burnt a small  section of the tile. 

Harckon e n’s jowly cheeks shook as his mouth fell open in surprise, and then he controlled his features and twisted them into an  ugly  manifestation of rage.  “Jedi! We have no need of your tricks here! We handle our own business.”

“I am no Jedi,” Anakin replied coolly. “And it turns out that your business is also my business.”

Harckonen and Dadelanius exchanged a bewildered glance. Their guards turned their blasters on Anakin, although their expressions betrayed their understanding of the futility of such a gesture. They knew Anakin could toss them all aside with a flick of his wrist if he so desired.

“What do you want with me?” Harckonen asked, sweat now standing out on his brow.

“Nothing. I seek Amoor Dadelanius.”

Dadelanius paled, instantly as sweaty as his red-headed adversary. “W-what have I done to offend the Jedi?”

Anakin bristled at the term. “I told you, I am not a Jedi.”

“Th-then how can you… you use the Force, do you not?” Dadelanius questioned.

“One does not have to be a Jedi to wield the Force,” Anakin replied simply.

Harckonen had been silently eyeing Anakin as he spoke to Dadelanius, trying to work out where he had seen the man’s face before. The sudden realisation filled him with a mixture of surprise and fear. “You’re Anakin Skywalker!”

“The Hero With No Fear,” one of the guards muttered in an awed tone.

“So you _are_ a Jedi,” Dadelanius replied.

Anakin frowned, his temper rising at their continued assumption that he was a Jedi and the reference to that stupid, unwanted nickname of his – the so-called fearless hero was no more. Countless times he had wondered if that hero had ever even existed in the first place.

“I work for the Chancellor,” Anakin told them. The words filled him with a sense of pride that he had not felt since he had been dismissed from the Order. He relished the feeling of it.

Dadelanius’ became even further panicked upon hearing this revelation. “I… uh… what business does the Chancellor seek?” he asked, trying to imbue his voice with a calmness that was clearly not there.

Harckonen’s eyes widened as he watched the exchange between Anakin and Dadelanius. Then, when Anakin fixed steely eyes on Harckonen, Harckonen desperately tried to look anywhere but at the imposing figure standing before him.

“Harckonen, is it?”

Harckonen swallowed and nodded, his gaze reluctantly meeting Anakin’s.

“You should leave now. The Chancellor’s quarrel is not with you. Although,” Anakin began, raising an eyebrow at the sweaty man lumbering away from him with his two guards, “you should probably honour your deals every now and again if you want to stay under the radar.”

Harckonen muttered something  likely offensive under his breath and quickly made his way away from the group and towards the nearest staircase.

Dadelanius watched Harckonen escape, and then gestured to place on the sofa that he had vacated. “Will you t-take a seat?”

Anakin shook his head. “No. This won’t take long.”

Dadelanius said nothing, waiting nervously for Anakin to continue. His presence in the Force was now comprised of nothing but fear.

“You have been trying to access Chancellor Palpatine’s personal communications.” It was not a question that Anakin offered the man, but a statement of fact.

“No! No, of course not!”

Anakin narrowed his eyes, taking in the appearance of the man before him. Dadelanius looked as he had in his image on the report Palpatine had given Anakin, and as he had in the holo footage Anakin had watched, only this time he was not composed at all, he was trying to still his trembling hands. Dressed in what Anakin could only assume were expensive fabrics and with a multitude of gold rings on his fingers, it was clear that this man was trying to project an image of wealth that he likely could not truly back-up.

“The Chancellor knows of your many enemies and your many failed deals. He suspects that you have been trying to access his personal communications so that you may gather information about these enemies and extort credits from them or, even more likely, just get rid of them.”

“That’s a lie! A lie I say!” 

“If what I am saying is untrue, why are you so nervous?” 

Dadelanius looked around as if trying to seek an escape.  He was squirming in his seat as if he wanted to leap from it and run away. 

“What are you hiding?” Anakin repeated.

Dadelanius’ grey eyes continued to dart around the room, and he r eached up with a shaky, ring-laden finger to  push some of his blond hair  back from where it had fallen across his eyes .  The blond was streaked with grey – Dadelanius was  clearly  not such a young man anymore. Age likely increased his desperation to be rid of his enemies; it would be harder  for him  to fight against them the older he got.

“I… have nothing to hide,” Dadelanius gulped. 

“You’re lying, Dadelanius,” Anakin said. “What was your deal with Harckonen?”

“N-nothing that concerns you or the Chancellor.”

“You _will_ tell me what your deal with Harckonen was about,” Anakin said, that same irresistible quality as before colouring his tone. He noted that this time he did not feel remorse about using the mind trick on the man squirming pathetically in front of him. He was doing the right thing, he was sure of it. This was his job – he needed this information to protect the Chancellor. The Chancellor himself had praised his abilities and told him to use them when required. 

Dadelanius did not even try to resist the mind trick. He answered as plainly as if giving Anakin this information was the greatest joy of his entire life. “Sep a ratist weapons.  Our deal  involved Separatist weapons.  Lodir  Harckonen is making them but cannot distribute them safely  to the Separatists  on his homeworld –  it’s under Republic control . I was going to distribute them on Yani 8  because  nobody would think to look there.”

Anakin smiled a bitter smile. His hand returned to the pocket of his robe. “Thank you, Dadelanius. I think the Chancellor would be very interested in hearing about this.”

It took Dadelanius a moment to register what Anakin had said, but then his face contained nothing but pure terror. “No! You can’t! I won’t let you!”

Dadelanius nodded to his guard, and in that instant both men drew their weapons and began firing on Anakin. It took only a split-second and the darksaber was in his hand, ignited and deflecting the men’s blaster bolts with fluid ease. Anakin moved with expertly-trained precision, holding the blade in front of his body now with both hands. His mind was in tune with the Force, detecting the blaster fire a split-second before it happened, the bolts hitting the buzzing black blade and flying back across the room at odd angles. They hit the walls and left scorch marks there like the one on the floor. 

The air filled with the sound of screaming as the other guests in the venue tried to work out what was happening. There was a great sense of movement in the nightclub as the booths on the second floor emptied and the guests scrambled to get away from the hail of blaster fire.

Dadelanius and his guard were distracted by the mass exodus of the crowd and that second of inactivity was all Anakin needed – he snatched their weapons from them with the Force and landed them at his feet.

“Surrender,” was all he said.

“I… I...” Dadelanius’ mouth gaped as he realised his defeat.

Then, unexpectedly quickly,  the police  droids arrived.  And, e ven worse, a HoloNet droid had arrived as well. 

“Drop your weapons,” one of the police droids droned mechanically. “Your use of force is unauthorised.”

A nakin gestured to the two blasters lying on the ground. “I’ve already taken their weapons.”

The droid who had spoken initially gestured its baton-carrying hand at the darksaber which was still ignited in Anakin’s hand. “Your use of force is unauthorised. Please surrender your weapon.”

Anakin stared at them. “I’m not the one doing anything wrong here – they opened fire on me!”

“Sir, please surrender your weapon,” the droid repeated. “We must take you in for questioning.”

“You don’t need to take _me_ in for questioning, just that man there, Amoor Dadelanius. Ask him about his involvement in the manufacture of Separatist weaponry! He needs to stand trial!” Anakin replied emphatically, gesturing at Dadelanius who, along with his guard, was now being put in cuffs by one of the other police droids. His expression was miserable to say the least. 

“Sir, please surrender your weapon. We must take you in for questioning. You were involved in a violent assault,” the droid repeated yet again.

Anakin returned his darksaber to his belt and threw up his hands  in annoyance . “You don’t need to take me in for questioning! I work for the Chancellor!” 

“We must take you in for questioning.”

“You _don’t_ need to take me in for questioning.”

“We _don’t_ need to take you in for questioning,” the police droid mirrored, stepping back from Anakin. 

That problem sorted,  Anakin turned, about to leave as quickly and discreetly as he could. It was just his luck that this would be on the HoloNet –  he could  only imagine how annoyed the Chancellor was going to be. The fact that Anakin was working for him was supposed to be kept as secretive as possible,  but there was no chance of that now.  The story would be everywhere in an instant. 

A s Anakin made his way quickly towards one of the staircases he noticed someone peering at him from one of the booths. He found it odd that they had not left in the chaos caused by Dadelanius  opening fire . As Anakin got closer, trying to work out if they were in need of any assistance, the being fled. Anakin only got a brief glimpse of them but it was enough for him to make out that they were a relatively young woman with purple hair and that they were dressed in clothing that reminded him of a  kind of  military uniform,  albeit one he did not recognise . 

“Hey, wait!” Anakin called after them, but it was too late – they were gone.

Anakin made his way out of the nightclub and watched from the shadows of a nearby building’s balcony as the police droids escorted Dadelanius and his guard away in their cruiser.  He knew he should feel satisfied – he had exposed a Separatist deal that  w ould have cost an untold amount of lives. However, he had also exposed himself to the HoloNet, and he was  very  concerned about the Chancellor’s response to this. 

Would the man respond negatively? Would he dismiss Anakin now that his cover had been blown? Those thoughts gnawed at Anakin as he continued to hide in the shadows.  He could do nothing to dismiss them. If he had ruined his chances of working for the Chancellor, what was  there left for him to do? 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. It was a lot of fun to write. I really enjoy writing Anakin (if you couldn’t tell, he’s my favourite character) and it was enjoyable getting to show him “flexing his Force muscles” so to speak. More of that coming in the story! It’s also been interesting writing Anakin’s struggle to find his identity again after being dismissed from the Jedi Order, and not being able to deal with his emotions about this properly. He’s not always necessarily doing the right thing and he keeps having to try and justify his actions to himself... Not something that’s easy to keep up. At least he’s got some supportive people in his corner.  
> Oh, and Harckonen is indeed a reference to the Harkonnen house from “Dune” - another great sci-fi series that I totally recommend!


	11. Chapter Ten: Elusive Meanings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kind words about the previous chapter! Sorry about the mistake of accidentally posting chapter 8 twice, though! If that meant you haven’t caught chapter 9 yet I assure you I’ve ironed out all mistakes!
> 
> Also my apologies for any confusion around the change of username :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this chapter. I really enjoyed writing it, especially Anakin and Palpatine’s conversation. I find that it’s always really easy for me to write interactions between the two of them. Aside from writing Anakin and Padmé scenes, Anakin and Palpatine scenes are probably my favourite to write. Please let me know what you think of the chapter! :)

**CHAPTER TEN: ELUSIVE MESSAGES**

T he Council chambers were bathed in a glow of orange light as the large sun of Coruscant made its  slow  descent below the line of mega-skyscrapers.  The group of Jedi Masters had convened quickly at their Grand Master’s request, and they now all sat patiently in their respective seats, waiting for the small green being to begin.

“Called you here on Master Kenobi’s behalf, I have,” Yoda began. “Important information to share with us, he has.”

“Is it more information about the Force Vision Master Yoda shared with us in our earlier meeting?” Plo Koon asked. Thoughts and questions about what Yoda had revealed to them this morning had remained with them all day. 

T he Masters  all turned to look at Obi-Wan  expectantly , who, like usual, always felt a bit uncomfortable being the centre of attention  like this.  He paused for a moment, deciding upon his words.  He knew the impact his  imminent revelation would surely have on them.  “ Yes, I do have more information about the Force Vision experienced by  Master  Yoda, my Padawan, Ahsoka Tano, and myself. It seems that this vision was also experienced by Anakin Skywalker.” 

Obi-Wan had been right. A ripple of consternation flowed through the room before it was quickly stifled.  Many of the Masters turned to look at each other or at Yoda,  their expressions demanding more information.

M ace Windu frowned. “How do you know this, Master Kenobi?”

“I have been to seen Anakin’s... wife,” Obi-Wan replied, addressing the room rather than Mace specifically. He still felt strange using the term “wife” in relation to Padmé. “I met with Senator Amidala this morning. She reached out to Ahsoka and myself as she has… _concerns_ … about Anakin.”

“What kind of concerns?” Mace demanded.

Obi-Wan chafed a little against Mace’s tone.  “Well, as I mentioned,  Anakin has also been experiencing these Force visions, although they are more like nightmares for him. He had similar ones about the death of his mother. The concerning part is that these  nightmares  proved to be prophetic.  Anakin’s mother did die on Tattooine soon after he began experiencing the dreams. ”

“How did you come to know about these nightmares of Skywalker’s?” Ki-Adi Mundi asked.

“He confided in me about them when he was my Padawan. I only wish I had taken his concerns more seriously,” Obi-Wan lamented.

“So what should we do about these new visions?” wondered Kit Fisto.

“The meaning of these visions, find in the Force, we will. Meditate we must,” answered Yoda.

“Will that be enough to protect Senator Amidala? Visions like these have preceded death before. If there is more we can do to help, I feel that it is our duty to do it,” Obi-Wan interjected. 

“Understand your concerns, we do, Master Kenobi. Trust that the Will of the Force will become clear, you must,” Yoda replied. 

Obi-Wan thought that this response was an unsatisfactory answer to his question, but shielded these thoughts from the other members of the Council. He continued with his address to the group.  “The other information that I need to share with you is that Anakin is now in the employ of the Chancellor. What exactly this  entails , I cannot be sure.  Senator Amidala herself does not know. ” 

“Hmm. This could be serious...” Mace mused, stony-faced. 

“I agree. It is unprecedented that anyone in the Senate should be working with a Force user, especially the Chancellor and one such as Skywalker. It could be… dangerous,” Shaak Ti rejoined.

Obi-Wan looked around at the other Masters as they digested this information. Their expressions were all difficult to read. 

“And what should we do about Skywalker?” It was Ki-Adi Mundi who finally asked what it was clear everyone in the room had been thinking.

“Keep an eye on him we must. But remember, part of our order, Skywalker is no longer. Intervene only if necessary, we can.” Yoda then turned to Obi-Wan and addressed him directly. “Master Kenobi, maintain contact with Senator Amidala you will. Concerns about her safety, there are – inform us of any, you must. About this vision, more information from her we may gain. Also, about Skywalker and the Chancellor’s actions.”

“You want me to spy on Anakin through his wife?” Obi-Wan tried to modulate the incredulity in his voice.

“I think it’s a good idea. Until we know the source and the meaning of these visions, and Anakin’s place in them all, it’s important that we do not lose track of what he is doing,” Mace offered. He regarded Obi-Wan with hard eyes. 

Obi-Wan returned Mace’s glare. “Senator Amidala reached out to me as a friend! She’s very concerned. She just wants help, not for me to spy on her husband!”

“And help her we will. Finding the meaning of the visions and monitoring Skywalker, the key to that, they are,” Yoda replied. 

“She’s an intelligent woman. She’ll see straight through me,” Obi-Wan protested.

“As you said, Master Kenobi, you two are friends. So, be a friend. All you’d have to do is talk to her and ask her if anything more happens with the visions or with Skywalker,” Mace continued.

Obi-Wan sighed. He didn’t agree with the Council’s choice but what more could he do? If he refused this task they would simply send another  Jedi to complete it . At least if it was him doing it he and Ahsoka could actually try to help t heir friends as much as possible. 

“Accept this task, do you, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back where it had fallen forward onto his face. “Yes, Master Yoda. I accept this task and I accept the Council’s decision.”

“Then, concluded, this meeting is. Encourage you to search the Force, I do. Find the meaning of these visions, we will.”

T he other masters departed one-by-one until only Obi-Wan was left. The chambers felt cold and empty, and he suddenly longed to be free of the old walls of the Temple. In that second they felt like a prison. The n the  feeling passed and Obi-Wan sought peace in the Force. From the window he had a view of the Senate building where he knew the Chancellor would still be working. He wondered if Anakin was there too. As he had done several times since his friend’s departure, Obi-Wan searched for his presence in the Force. He was met with nothing, as usual – Anakin had completely closed himself off to any of the Jedi.  Obi-Wan, despite all the teachings of the Code and his strict adherence to it, suddenly longed for companionship. Despite knowing that he shouldn’t feel that way, he wished that his friend was here with him, and that none of what had transpired these past few weeks had ever come to be. Knowing that these thoughts were not the Jedi way,  that he must trust in the Will of the Force,  Obi-Wan stifled them. Nevertheless, that longing for companionship, for a kind word or a joke from a friend persisted, so he rose from his seat, left the Council chambers and went to find Ahsoka. He needed to go over some new evasion  manoeuvres with her anyway. 

  
  


OOOOO

  
  


Anakin’s speeder cut a streak of yellow through the crowded Coruscant sky as he made his way to C hancellor Palpatine’s office.  The night was late, but he knew the Chancellor would still be in his office – the man kept long working hours like Padmé did.  Only around thirty minutes or so had passed since the business at the nightclub, but Anakin knew that  that  was all the time that was needed for the Chancellor to find out exactly what had happened  there .  It was like the man was somehow able to be in a million places at once; nothing escaped his knowledge,  he saw everything .  Besides, w hat happened at the nightclub would be all over the  H olo- N e t b y now anyway – the thought of that sent a nervous spasm into  Anakin’s  stomach,  that ever-present fear of failure within him rearing its ugly head once more  and threatening to coax that dark dragon into  waking .

Anakin’s nervousness made him hasty. He stormed up the stairs of the senate building, his dark cloak flying behind him. There were only a few beings around at this time of night but they turned to stare at him, curious as to why a civillian who looked remarkably like Anakin Skywalker was running into the senate building. Thankfully there was nobody else in the turbolift. Anakin was thankful for those brief seconds of solitude. His thoughts were a mess; the calmness of being in-tune with the Force that Obi-Wan had always tried to teach him to use eluded him as usual. It was not until he actually reached the top floor that Anakin slowed his pace, somehow wrangled control over his anxieties, and when he was admitted into the Chancellor’s office (begrudgingly by the guard, who still did not like him), Palpatine was presented with a figure of relative calm.

It was short-lived calm, though - t o his dismay, Anakin saw that the Chancellor was watching the  H olo- N ews report of what had happened at The Door to the Afterlife.  Images of the chaos  that had occurred there  filled the projection that rose fr om Palpatine’s desk. Flashes of crimson blaster fire met the dark blade Anakin held in his hands. Swarms of beings made their way to the exits,  pushing each other in their haste to leave . And, confirming Anakin’s fears, there was his face, front-and-centre, along with the caption “The Hero With No Fear: Jedi No More?” 

Anakin said nothing, waited for the Chancellor to make the first move. Palpatine finished watching the broadcast and then turned his high-backed chair to face Anakin, his expression blank and his fingers tented.

“As you can see, Anakin, I know what has happened at that nightclub you visited.”

The Chancellor’s tone was unreadable. Anakin swallowed, his throat dry.

“I am sorry, Chancellor. I did not mean to expose myself like that – it compromises my position and your safety. I-I understand if you would like me to resign.” As he said the words he felt the gnawing sense of failure return to his stomach. The dragon open a wary eye.

The Chancellor looked at Anakin curiously.  “ Resign? My dear boy, why would I want you to do that?”

Anakin was confused. Palpatine was a highly intelligent man – surely the answer was obvious.  “ Because your enemies will know exactly who I am  now .  They will know wh o to watch out for.”

Anakin was taken aback at how animated the old man suddenly became.  “ Precisely! It couldn’t  have worked out any better!”

A  frown crossed Anakin’s features as he tried to understand the Chancellor’s strangely positive tone. “I… I’m unsure what you mean, Chancellor.”

Palpatine reclined a little in his chair, amusement still clear on his face as he explained. “It’s one thing for them to be  afraid of the Chancellor’s security if they are  faced with  some mysterious being, but it’s even better now they know that it’s you, Anakin Skywalker. O ur enemies will fear you, Anakin.  They know who you are and what you are capable of.  They won’t want to cross someone with power such as yours !”

Anakin felt conflicted at the Chancellor’s words, especially at how the man had referred to his own opponents as “our enemies.” When Anakin had accepted the job he had not assumed he would be spreading fear across the galaxy. He had been a Jedi, and even though he no longer carried that title, his pledge to uphold their peaceful ideals had not changed. He did not want to become an object of terror. He stayed quiet, unsure of how to voice his feelings and equally unsure of how the Chancellor would react to them.

“You won’t be spreading fear across the galaxy, Anakin,” the Chancellor said, voicing Anakin’s thoughts, and the young man could not hide his shock. The Chancellor simply smiled and continued. “You’ll merely be able to use your reputation to deter those who would harm me… or other senators. Think about it: if I fell, what would happen to the Republic? Who would continue leading the fight against the Separatists? The galaxy would fall into chaos – there would be no chance for peace. Really, Anakin, by serving me, by using your reputation against our foes, you’ll be protecting democracy, more than you ever could as a Jedi.”

“H-how did you know… what I was thinking?” Anakin gasped. Instantly a warning sounded inside him – something was not right about this situation. He tried to focus on the warning but it was like trying to find something at the bottom of a lake of murky water; the warning was obstructed, the meaning of it would not come clearly into view. 

P alpatine laughed that high, reedy laugh. “What did you think? That I can read your mind?” He laughed again.  The sound seemed mechanical.  “No, no, my boy. I just know you very well. We have known each other for twelve years, don’t you remember? I know how important doing the right thing is to you. I also know that even though you are no longer a Jedi, you still want to fight for peace.”

Anakin was still taken aback at how perceptive  Palpatine was being. He knew that the man’s explanation for  this perception was logical – they  _ had  _ known each other for over a decade, and  in many ways  t he  C hancellor was like a father figure to him – but still, this was uncanny.  He was still feeling that warning inside of him, and he reached out with the Force, trying to gauge if there was anything unusual about P alpatine’s presence.  However, e verything about the man seemed to be the same as it always was.  The meaning of the warning remained elusive.  Anakin ignored it – he was  obviously  just reading too much into a situation after a long day with a lot to process.

Palpatine rose from his seat at his desk and came to stand behind Anakin. “So, what do you say, Anakin? I am right, aren’t I?”

After a pause, Anakin turned to face his old friend, nodding. “Your safety, and the assurance of peace, that is important. Not only to me, but to the galaxy.”

The Chancellor smiled. “I am glad to hear it.”

Anakin assumed that the meeting was over then, but the Chancellor then posed one more, very unexpected question. “Anakin… what would you do if I asked you to use your powers in a way outside of the teachings of the Jedi?”

The warning grew louder. It no longer felt like simply his own anxieties about the Chancellor’s words – it now felt like another voice, someone or something whispering “no.”

Anakin’s eyes narrowed. He tried to focus on the Chancellor’s words instead of the whisper. “What do you mean?”

Palpatine  casually  waved a hand in the air, as if wiping away Anakin’s doubts. “Oh, I don’t mean anything seriously dreadful. I just thought… well, there may be times when it is necessary to use more…  _force…_ in a situation.”

The warning grew even louder.  It was not a whisper anymore. It was a  stronger voice – voices? Men, women, blending together into one and becoming indiscernible from each other.  They  were  coming from somewhere within  the Force, and they were all saying the same thing:  “ _no_ .”

A nakin looked down and away from Palpatine, pushing his curls from his eyes. He struggled to focus on what the Chancellor was saying as the strange blend of voices grew louder and louder in his mind. 

“I… I don’t understand what you are saying,” Anakin managed, his head starting to pound from the cacophony within it. The voices, they just grew louder and louder, without end.

The Chancellor spoke again but his voice seemed further and further away as the voices in Anakin’s head drowned him out.  “Say for example someone was withholding vital information  that could prevent something like… oh, I don’t know, a planned abduction of a senator. And you were in a position to…  _extract…_ that information from them in  a  way that the Jedi may not approve of… what would you do?”

Louder and louder came the sound of the voices. “No. No. No. No!”

Anakin said nothing,  _could_ say nothing .  He couldn’t think.  He felt  suddenly so out of control, like he was standing on a precipice from which there was no return from if he fell into.  The voices were raging a conflict within him but he was fighting one with himself as well.  He had been taught for so long to use his Force powers for good, to never stray from the teachings of the Jedi code. But  of course, he remembered his time fighting in the Clone Wars; had there not been  situations wh ere he had had to work outside of the Code for the good of the Republic? He had saved lives, won battles by doing things that he knew the Council had not approved of. He had never been, would never be cruel – he would never use his gifts for the wrong reason,  he was sure of it – but if using them in ways beyond what he had been taught allowed him to save lives… He had a sudden flash of the nightmare that had been plaguing him these several weeks. Padmé’s scream… It paralysed him.

T hose other voices mixed with this, blended with it. Their screams joined Padmé’s. “NO! NO! NO!”

The dragon inside of him awoke, fighting against the noise.  He tried to think clearly.  What if he was able to prevent the nightmare coming t rue  by using his powers in ways the Jedi had not taught him? Saving lives. Peace in the galaxy.  Balance.  Was that what the whole prophecy of the Chosen One was about?  Was that not his destiny? Was that not what he wanted?  “Yes”, the dragon said. “Say yes and get everything you ever wanted.”

Anakin kept fighting against the screams, both Padmé’s and those other awful, disembodied voices. Finally, with great strength, the dragon won, and Anakin seized control and was able to focus again on the Chancellor, who was looking at him with probing grey eyes.

“I will use the Force to uphold democracy and to protect the lives of the innocent – it is what I have pledged my life to do. If that means circumventing the teachings of the Code… then so be it.”

S uddenly silence. The voices were all gone. 

Anakin exhaled, not realising he had been holding his breath all this time.  Exhaustion overwhelmed him.  It was a struggle even to remain standing. 

The Chancellor indulged in another wide smile. “I have always found the teachings of the Jedi to be unnecessarily restrictive, anyway.”

“What do you know of the teachings of the Jedi?”

“I have done my own personal research. The Force is a subject I find fascinating, even though I was never… _blessed_ … by becoming a Jedi.”

Anakin nodded.  He had no response to this,  was too spent to properly think about the implications of the Chancellor’s words. 

P alpatine returned to his seat,  gesturing to Anakin to sit down in one of the ones facing his . “ Anakin, now that the wider public know that you are working for me, it will be harder for you to remain anonymous when you need to – say for example if you need to send me a communication with sensitive information, or if we are devising some sort of strategy that must remain secret. I think you should have some sort of… code-name.”

A nakin simply nodded again. Words still failed him.

“Hmm...” The Chancellor thought for a moment, tenting his fingers as he came up with an appropriate choice. “How about… Vader?”

“ Vader.” Anakin tried out the  code- name. It had a strange sort of familiarity to him, as if it was  as legitimate an identity  for him  as his real name.

“What do you think?” asked Palpatine, one eyebrow raised.

“Vader. I like it,” Anakin replied. 

“Good. You will henceforth be known as Vader in all communications between us, in all plans and so-forth,” Palpatine proclaimed. 

As he did so Anakin suddenly felt cold. It was a feeling reminiscent of the one he had experienced in The Doors to the Afterlife after performing the mind-trick on the twi’lek Aehew. He dismi ssed the feeling as being borne of his fatigue.

The Chancellor continued.  “ It was very fortunate that you were able to discover the deal that those dishonourable S eparatists Harckonen and Dadelanius were making.  They will both face the proper punishments, as is fitting for traitors of the Republic.  However, I have tasked you with more pressing concerns; d o you have any more information about who might be trying to access my communications?”

“Not yet,” Anakin told him, his voice thin with tiredness. “But I did notice a strange woman at the nightclub watching me. She fled before I could find out more about her, but she seemed to be wearing some sort of military uniform.”

He described the uniform to the  C hancellor, who pursed his lips. “That is the uniform of t he Free Voices. ”

Anakin remembered the details of her face, the bright shock of hair. The woman he had seen did not fit the description of the group’s leader, Libellia Quark, but she would still prove a valuable source of information if she could be tracked down. He had quickly made a note of her description on his datapad as soon as he had left the nightclub, as he knew that any clue was important. “I will follow up on this lead, Chancellor. I assure you I will find out the identity of this woman.”

“I would advise you to spend some time in the lower levels, as unappealing as that may sound. I am sure you will find a wealth of information about the group down there. That is where they seem to primarily operate from,” the Chancellor advised him.

“I will start searching straight away,” Anakin promised.

The amount of effort it took to get to his feet surprised him. Anakin hoped that he had successfully masked his strange encounter with the Force and his subsequent fatigue from the Chancellor – at the very least, the man had not commented on it. He bowed before leaving, the ring on his finger catching the light as he did so.

“I am glad to see you made up with your wife,” Palpatine said pleasantly, gesturing at the ring Anakin wore. “I am sure she will be very proud of the work you are doing.” 

“I hope so,” Anakin replied.

“We are all working hard for a common goal, after all,” Palpatine continued rather grandly. “Peace and prosperity in the galaxy.”

  
  


OOOOO

  
  


“Kill her,” the voice whispered. “Kill her. You must kill her.”

Mace awoke in a sweat. “W-who’s there?”

“Kill her.” It was a voice like a snake, cold, tinny.

“Show yourself!” Mace leapt from his bed, igniting his saber. The room was lit with nothing but an eerie glow of purple, revealing nobody. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“Kill her. It is her destiny.”

“Who? Who are you talking about?”

“You must kill her. It is her destiny to die.”

Mace moved slowly around the small room, carefully checking for any intruders. However, he could uncover no clues as to the identify of this mysterious voice.

“Who are you talking about? Who are you?” Mace shouted.

“Kill her,” the voice repeated. “Kill her.”

“I will not listen to these Sith tricks!”

In that instant Mace felt nothing but waves of absolute hatred coursing through his body. There was a sound like a crack of lighting, and the room was suddenly illuminated in light so bright Mace had to shield his eyes from it. Still he could not see what being was filling the room with its hateful presence.

“You must listen to me,” the voice told him.

“I will not!”

“WITHOUT HER DEATH THERE WILL BE NO BALANCE! YOU MUST KILL HER!”

And Mace crumpled like a rag to the floor, his saber, purple blade still ignited, falling beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t want to put this in the author’s note at the top because of spoilers but wow, when I first started writing this story all those years ago I honestly never intended for it to end up going in this exact direction! A lot of the things that happened in the previous chapters were in my original plan, but things really started deviating around about chapter 8. In the OG version Anakin was a lot less conflicted about having to leave the order (he was kind of just like “yeah cool, no worries, imma just go work for the Chancellor then and be happy, no problems”, but I thought A. that’s not very true to his character and B. that’s a lot less interesting to write (and less interesting for you to read). This story has ended up evolving to be less about “Anakin leaves the Order and does other stuff and there are some Force Visions too” and more “Anakin is kicked out of the Order and really struggles with it because of course he does, it’s his whole life up until this point and he’s a super ambitious guy, and also oh no, Force Visions!” He was never as dark as he was in this version (it only gets worse before it gets better, sorry), and he was never given the Vader name either (that was actually a really late change). All of the things involving the Force visions and Mace etc were in the original plan. Isn’t it interesting how things change over time! 
> 
> I know this update is really soon after the previous one, but honestly, I was just so excited to share this one! On to writing the next one...


	12. Chapter Eleven: A Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who gave feedback on the last chapter. It means a lot to me, and I know I say that every time but that doesn’t mean I don’t always mean it 100%. Your continued support really helps motivate me to push through when I’m having writer’s block (which I did majorly with this chapter), and always makes me excited to post a new chapter and find out what you all think of it :)

**CHAPTER ELEVEN:** **A** **STRANGER**

“Anakin Skywalker is a name that all beings across the galaxy are familiar with. The Hero With No Fear has saved countless lives during his service in the Clone Wars as a Jedi General of the Grand Army of the Republic. However, it appears that Skywalker’s time with the Jedi Order may be at an end, if this footage from The Door to the Afterlife, a popular nightclub for the wealthy citizens of Coruscant’s upper levels, is anything to go by. 

“The footage shows Skywalker engaged in conflict with Amoor Dadelanius, a diplomat from Yavin 8, a minor moon orbiting Yavin Prime. It is unclear what caused the incident between Dadelanius and Skywalker, however in our exclusive footage Skywalker reveals that Dadelanius was seemingly involved in a Separatist plot. Specific details of this plot, and of Dadelanius’ sentence, will be revealed during his trial, although a court date has not been set as of time of broadcast.

“However, what is even more shocking than the revelation of another Separatist traitor threatening the security of the Republic is Skywalker’s next words, which confirm that he is likely no longer a Jedi, and is instead working for Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. It is as of yet unconfirmed whether Skywalker has truly left the Jedi order or what he nature of his employment with the Supreme Chancellor is.

“All we can hope for now is that Skywalker continues working for the good of the Republic, because in this time of crisis, we need the Hero With No Fear more than ever.”

The holo-net broadcast finished but Padmé did not turn off the holo-device in the centre of the low table. The news continued to play – the broadcast about Anakin had been the main story of the evening, of course, but there were still endless occurrences across the far reaches of the galaxy that needed to be brought into the comfort of everyone’s living rooms. Padmé didn’t hear a word of what they said, though. She was too much lost in thought.

What worried her wasn’t the broadcast itself – she knew all of that was inevitable. The holo-net had reported on Anakin’s exploits as the Hero With No Fear regularly, so it only made sense that now he was no longer a Jedi that he was even more of a target for gossip. Thankfully news of their marriage was not yet widely known outside of the Jedi Order and a select few in the Senate (the Chancellor included). Whilst it was not a secret, of course, and Padmé would gladly tell the entire galaxy that Anakin Skywalker was her husband and how much she loved him, she was thankful now that there was no media attention on that, making a difficult time even more so. No, what worried her now was how exactly the Chancellor was going to use Anakin, especially after this holo-report. Padmé knew that Palpatine was shrewd enough to employ the report to his advantage. Anakin had a reputation across the galaxy as an incredible warrior, and now the secret was out that he was working for the Chancellor, Palpatine would surely use this to strike fear into his foes. Padmé even wondered if this hadn’t been his intention all along.

And Anakin, oh Anakin. He could have such tunnel-vision about things. He only wanted to focus on the good parts of anything, this job especially. That it was a way to find pride in himself after having his identity so unceremoniously stripped from him. That it was a purpose. That it was a way to make her proud, although she had told him countless times that she would be proud of him no matter what he did as a job, that rank and status did not matter to her at all. Honestly, and this was something she would never, ever tell him, she thought this job was also a way for Anakin to hold on to what he could of being a Jedi. He could still use his abilities, he could still be doing good for the Republic. He didn’t have to truly say goodbye to that part of himself, even if he would never admit that he did not truly want to cut those ties.

Padmé wondered how she would broach these thoughts with her husband, as he was so sensitive to any criticism from her about his job with the Chancellor. She was glad that he had uncovered that Separatist traitor, Harckonen, but she wondered what Anakin had really gone to that night club to do, and what he would be asked by the Chancellor to do next.

These thoughts agitated her, and before she even realised what she was doing Padmé found herself on her feet and pacing the expanse of the living room. She always did this when she was really stuck on a thought – often Bail Organa would enter her office in the Senate building and find her on her feet, pacing back and forth in front of the window, trying to work out an appropriate solution to some political issue or other.

But Padmé did not know what the solution to this problem was. The more she voiced her concerns the more she felt like she was creating a rift between herself and her husband. She wanted to be supportive, she wanted this job to be a positive thing with no dark shadow, but truly she was worried for her husband, and that holo-news report had only increased that anxiety. Palpatine was not to be trusted. She knew enough about him and the way he operated to know that what was on the surface was never the true story. Uncovering Separatist plots was one thing, but Padmé knew there would be more that Palpatine would expect of his new head of security. A man like Palpatine had many enemies. A man like Palpatine did many things to stay in such a position of power.

Anakin had a good heart, she knew that. He was a good person. But, and this had worried her even before he had taken the position working for the Chancellor, Anakin could be blind to Palpatine’s faults. Because Anakin viewed the Chancellor as a father-figure, he could not, or _would_ not, accept that his friend and mentor had failings.

Padmé didn’t need to wonder where Anakin was now – she knew he would be with the Chancellor. She did wonder, however, what they were discussing, and what Anakin’s reaction to being on the holo-news would be. She knew he did not like publicity, although he had never eschewed it as much as she knew Obi-Wan did.

Eventually Padmé gave up waiting for Anakin. It was so late at night now – well, it was not even really night anymore, but early morning, she supposed. She had dismissed Dorme and C-3PO a few hours ago so was completely alone in the apartment and completely exhausted.

She retired to her bedroom and began taking off her dress. It was one of her favourites, deep blue with fine silver embroidery of good luck symbols from Naboo on the bodice. She traced the swirling pattern with her finger. She felt like the dress was appropriate given the circumstances. They could all use a bit of luck right now. Suddenly her mind flashed to the conversation she had had with Anakin the other night about the latest of his nightmares. She tried to ignore the chill that ran down her spine and remained in her belly.

 _I won’t be scared_ , Padmé tried to assure herself. _Not all dreams come true._

Unfortunately her assurances to herself brought her little comfort. She would never admit it to Anakin but she was scared. She had been the first time he had had the nightmare and that fear had only mounted as the dreams had continued. She remembered what had happened to Anakin’s mother. The chill in her belly worsened.

Padmé  changed into her favourite loose white nightgown, forcing herself to be braver. Finally, she sat down at her vanity  and  began taking off her makeup,  so tired now that her eyelids drooped as she wiped away her soft pink lipstick. Just a few more minutes and she would be in bed. Just a few more minutes…

And then, suddenly, Anakin was home. Padmé had been so tired that she had not heard his speeder land, so tired that she had not heard him calling out her name as he walked through the apartment. She woke up, however, when his flesh hand brushed her cheek, when his lips touched hers in a kiss, when she stood up so he could wrap his arms around her.

“Ani,” she whispered against his lips. “You’re home.”

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he replied, kissing her again. He looked as weary as she did.

“I saw the holo-news report,” Padmé said. She watched Anakin’s expression change. He somehow became even wearier.

“Padmé , I-” Anakin began to protest what he was sure was going to be some sort of interrogation into both his actions and Palpatine’s motives from his wife, but Padmé ’s soft voice stopped him.

“Ani, I was worried about you. Are you alright?” It was the truest approximation of her feelings.

A nakin’s  jaw un-clenched. His shoulders relaxed. A hint of a smile touched his lips at the warm thought of his wife’s loving concern for him. “I’m alright.”

Padmé nestled her head against Anakin’s chest and his chin came to rest atop hers. The dark folds of his robe covered the white fabric of her nightgown as his arms remained wrapped securely around her. There was so much she wanted to say to him but she did not know how, nor did she have the energy. For once Padmé was lost for words. All she could manage was: “what happened?”

Upon asking the question Padmé felt some of the tension return to Anakin’s posture. His arms fell to his sides and he looked away, out through the transparisteel window at the slowly lightening sky. “I was investigating something for the Chancellor.”

“What were you investigating?” Padmé moved in front of the window so that she would be in his view again. This was an opportunity to assuage her fears.

Anakin looked at her again, then shook his head. “I can’t tell you, Padmé . I’m sorry, but the Chancellor has asked me to keep the specific details of my work confidential.”

“I understand,” said Padmé , but something about Anakin’s words did not feel right to her. He suddenly felt very far away, even though he was standing right next to her. “But what happened at that nightclub isn’t a secret, Anakin – it’s all over the holo-net. What caused that man, Dadelanius, to fire at you? The holo-net said he was a Separatist; is that why you were there?”

“I wasn’t there because he was a Separatist, I just found that out when I confronted him,” Anakin explained. The rest of his words seemed begrudging. “He opened fire on me because I told him that I worked for the Chancellor and he was trying to resist arrest. I can’t tell you any more than that.”

Padmé frowned. It was clear that she would not get the answers she sought. She decided to change course. “That weapon you were using – what is it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it before.”

Anakin took the darksaber from his belt. Standing back from her a few paces, he ignited the weapon. It glowed in his hand, deceptively beautiful.

Padmé was in awe. “Is that… a _lightsaber_?”

Anakin deactivated the weapon and returned it to the safety of his belt. “No, it’s called a darksaber.”

“A darksaber?” Padmé turned the unfamiliar word over in her mouth.

“It’s a Mandalorian weapon. Kind of like a lightsaber, yes. It still uses a kyber crystal but it’s a little… _different_.”

“The Chancellor gave that to you.” It was not a question from Padmé , it was an acknowledgement of fact.

“Yes.” Sensing something unspoken in her demeanour, he continued. “It’s an amazing weapon, Padmé .”

  
  


Padmé hesitated before speaking. “You don’t think it’s a rather powerful weapon for someone in the employ of the Senate?” she asked, knowing that she was stepping onto thin ice as she did so. “Everyone else has, well, blasters.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes. “A blaster? I think my abilities are a bit beyond a blaster, Padmé . The darksaber is a weapon much more fitting for me.”

_And with it you would make a terrifying adversary to any of Palpatine’s foes_ , thought Padmé .  _Whatever will he have you do?_

The conversation was over. There was nothing more to be said, at least not now. Padmé walked past Anakin and sunk into the plush comfort of the bed without another word.

Anakin undressed and joined his wife in bed. There was a moment of silent tension before Padmé drew close to him once more.

“Just be safe, Ani,” she mumbled, her voice light, on the cusp of sleep taking her. “Just ... be … safe.”

“Always, my love. You have my word,” Anakin murmured, some of the tenderness returning to his voice. He pressed a kiss to her temple as he felt her breathing slow as she fell asleep with his arm around her.

He lay there for a little while, not as tired as he had been before. He thought about his wife’s words. A blaster? That was practically an insult; his skills were so far beyond the use of a blaster. The Chancellor had given him the darksaber for a reason – with it, he would continue his destiny of vanquishing the enemies of the Republic.

She would see. They all would.

OOOOO

Mace Windu awoke to find himself unexpectedly on the floor.  Even more unexpected was that his saber was on the floor next to him.  I t was obvious that something  must have happened to him the previous night, but he could remember nothing more than coming into his chambers and going to bed like he always did.

He suddenly recalled that Master Yoda had found himself in a similar situation after the strange vision he had had about Skywalker, so Mace went straight to seek the wise old Master’s counsel.

It was a brief discussion, however, as even using the Force to meditate on the previous night’s events amounted to nothing.  Y es, Mace must have had some sort of vision, p robably  similar to the ones the other Jedi had discussed, but unfortunately,  as  the details of whatever  the vision had been about were lost,  they could not be entirely sure .

“Concealed, the vision is,” Yoda ruminated.

“Concealed by who?” Mace frowned.

“A mystery, that remains. The answer, soon, we must find out.”

“How?”

“To have only a single vision, unlikely, it is. When more visions we have, discover the secret we will.”

“And you’re sure we’ll have more visions?” Mace asked.

Yoda nodded. “These visions – a message in them meant to discover, there is. Whatever is causing them, whoever is sending them, unless we have the answer, stop they will not.”

Mace hoped that the old Master was right, and that they would keep receiving the visions until they worked out their meaning. He knew the visions must be a sign from the Force. He just hoped they were from the right side of it.

OOOO

Ahsoka held her lightsaber in her hand,  eyes closed,  waiting for the f ight to begin. She would sense it when it started. She was one with the Force. The Force was one with her. 

Suddenly her opponent ignited their blade. It was a streak of blue through the air and then it was crashing forcefully against her own.

Ahsoka leapt back, her green blade coming up behind her head fluidly before crashing back down on Obi-Wan’s. With one hand Obi-Wan used the Force to repel Ahsoka, but she agilely leapt forward, their sabers meeting again.

Ahsoka struck again but O bi-Wan dodged her attack, crouching low to avoid the swing of her blade. He used the Force to propel himself back a few paces, but Ahsoka w as there instantly, leaping forwards to join him.  Their blades c rashed against each other again, the sound filling the air of the training  arena .

They fought ferociously. Every time Ahsoka gained some ground, she was pushed back again by the strength of her opponent’s defense.  Over and over  their blades s truck against each other, green and blue blurs flashing through the air .

They had started in the centre of the arena but the duel edged them further and further to the right as they both gained and lost ground repeatedly. Near the wall of the arena now, Ahsoka took a chance. In a split-second she turned around, Obi-Wan now behind her, and then, with a running leap, used the Force to jump, propelling herself off the wall and nimbly up and over Obi-Wan. Her blade, held in the backward stance she favoured, connected with his as he held it aloft, defending himself from any downward attack. She landed behind him and was about to take the final mock strike at his back, a thrilling sense of excitement inside of her at the thought of besting Obi-Wan Kenobi in a training duel, but Obi-Wan suddenly gripped his saber with both hands, held it behind him over his left shoulder and met her strike, before whirling around to face her, his blade a blur, striking so fast Ahsoka could not keep up. 

Ahsoka tried to counter him, but in doing so, as she lifted her blade to strike, she left herself open for Obi-Wan’s quicker reflexes. The tip of his blade hovered a centimetre or so away from her abdomen. She was bested yet again.

Obi-Wan laughed at the visible frustration on his padawan’s face and deactivated the blade of his saber. “Leaping over your opponent is a good trick against a battle droid, but an arrogant one against a Jedi. If that had been a proper fight what would you have done to stop me simply slashing your legs off?”

Ahsoka thought for a moment. “I suppose I could have just jumped higher off the wall?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Never rely on suppositions, my young apprentice. The best way to win a fight is to rely on what you know you can definitely do.” 

Ahsoka bowed her head,  c onceding to  the older Jedi .  “Yes, Master.” 

Her lightsaber joined the other one she wore on her belt. With a brief wistfulness she thought back to all the times that Anakin had fuelled that sense of recklessness in her, telling her that she’d never know what abilities she had until she tried them, encouraging her to take risks to build her skills. Obi-Wan was a much different teacher. His teaching style was much more by-the-book. It was going to take some getting used to.

Obi-Wan smiled at Ahsoka’s tone. She had so much of Anakin in her. “You’re a talented fighter, Ahsoka. I would like to teach you more about the Soresu style, as sometimes it can be more useful to defend against an opponent's attacks than to constantly rely on attacking or counter-attacking them. However, you certainly know a lot for a padawan your age.”

Ahsoka beamed. “I’ve had good training.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, Anakin was a good teacher for you, wasn’t he.”

“You’re a good teacher for me too, Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka added. “I just need to get better at jumping higher. Then I’ll win the next duel.”

Laughter bubbled from Obi-Wan as the two of them headed towards the exit of the training arena side-by side.

Oh yes, she really was so much like Anakin.

  
  


OOOO

  
  


“ Kill her.”

Mace turned over in his sleep, mumbling “no” under his breath.

“Kill her.” The voice was louder now.

“No,” Mace murmured,  still asleep . “I will not.”

“KILL HER.”

And Mace suddenly opened his eyes, wide awake. And  in an instant he realised  he was no longer alone.

His saber was ignited as he leapt from his bed. “Who are you?”

At first Mace received no answer from the intruder. They were tall, with pale, grey skin and red markings on their face. They wore black and red clothing. Most startling were their eyes, which were calculating, and a deep, deep red.

“I said: _who are you_?” Mace repeated, holding his saber up in front of himself defensively. 

U nexpectedly the intruder smiled. And then, even stranger, they began to laugh.  With a wave of their hand Mace’s lightsaber was deactivated. “You won’t need that,” the figure said in a voice that was suddenly so awfully familiar. “I mean you no harm.”

“Who are you?” Mace repeated for a third time. 

T he intruder shook their head. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is why I am here.”

“And why is that?” Mace asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m here to help.”

“ To help with what?”

“To help you fix all that has happened, and all that will happen. To set fate down its correct path.” The  intruder paused, then took a step closer to Mace.  Their voice became lower, strangely tantalising. “To ensure that the prophecy is fulfilled.”

Mace took several steps back. “What prophecy do you speak of?”

The  intruder laughed again. “Aren’t Jedi supposed to be wise? Don’t play naive with me, Master Windu.”

“How do you know my name?” Mace interrupted.

The  intruder smiled coldly. “I know all. All that has happened. All that  _ will  _ happen. All that  _ could  _ happen.”

Mace frowned. “And how do you know all of this?”

The strange figure merely shook their head. “How I know it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I am here to help you fix what has gone wrong, like I said. To ensure that the prophecy is fulfilled. The prophecy of the Chosen One.” 

“ The Chosen One?” Mace waved away the stranger’s words. “The prophecy of the Chosen One was misread. Skywalker is gone.  He is no longer a Jedi, nor has he any desire to be.” 

T he  intruder smiled. “But what if there was a way t o get him back? What if there was a way to reverse what ha s happened so that Skywalker returned to the Order, and the prophecy could be fulfilled?  So that balance could be brought to the Force?  To the galaxy? ”

“ And how would such things be achieved?” Mace asked sceptically. 

“ I can help you,” the  intruder said. “All you have to do is trust me.”

Mace scowled. “Why would I trust you? You won’t even tell me who you are!  I am no fool!”

“ As I said, it does not matter who I am. What matters is that fate is set back on its correct course before things are too late.”

“ Why? What is going to happen?”

“ T errible things.” The  intrud er’s voice was low, barely a whisper. Serpentine. “ Such terrible things.”

“ Be gone from here, whoever you are. I neither trust you nor believe you!” shouted Mace.

The  intrude r smiled. “Oh, but you will.  _ Soon. _ ”

A nd  then  they were gone.

  
  



End file.
